The Hero
by iammemyself
Summary: Ever thought about being a hero?  Sounds cool, doesn't it?  How about being Sonic the Hedgehog?  It may not be as cool as it seems...  Rated Teen for safety purposes.
1. Chapter 1

What is it like to be Sonic?  
>My whole life I've wanted to be like him, to be him later, even, since he always tells me I can do anything I want to, if I only try hard enough. In fact, I still wanted it, until a few nights ago, when I suddenly realized it was four in the morning and I still hadn't gone to bed. I didn't want Sonic to know I was still awake. He gets up at five to run. He has some place he likes to watch the sun rise. I think he sleeps afterwards anyways.<br>I was...well, I was sneaking upstairs to my room, trying not to make any noise (and especially not to wake Sonic), so I guess that's why I heard it. At first I thought it was me, breathing real loud in concentration or my heart pounding in my ears maybe, but when I stopped to figure out why it seemed so far away from me I realized it was coming from Sonic's room. His door was closed.  
>I wasn't trying to be nosy. I know Sonic doesn't close his door a lot, and I know I'm not supposed to bother him when he does. But I just wanted to know why he decided to close his door tonight. I was just concerned.<br>I think he would've been upset anyways if he knew I saw him crying like that.  
>It wasn't sad crying, you know like when you break your hard drive and you forgot to back it up even though you have a million sticky notes reminding you to, or when you watch a sad movie. It was like someone that Sonic loved a lot had died, multiplied by a googol. It was the kind of crying that makes you shake so hard you can't control it, and makes it hard to breathe.<br>I never thought I'd see Sonic like that.  
>I closed the door, knowing he wouldn't notice it was opened, and I went into my room, but I couldn't sleep. What would make Sonic so sad he would cry like his heart was breaking?<br>Before I knew it I saw his eyes glowing in the dark and my heart sped up. I guess he noticed after all. I couldn't pretend I was sleeping either, since I had been staring in the direction of the doorway.  
>"Tails?"<br>"Yeah?"  
>"Can't sleep?"<br>"No," I said with more hesitation that I would have liked.  
>"Went to bed late again, huh bud?"<br>"Well..."  
>Sonic laughed, but I didn't mind. At least he wasn't crying. Until an hour ago, I thought he didn't know how.<br>"You wanna come with me?"  
>"Really?"<br>"Yeah." He stood there for a minute, not saying anything, which made me kind of nervous. Why was he inviting me anyways? This was his private time, his time to be alone when he was so often surrounded by people. I knew that even though he had never said it to me.  
>"Uh, Sonic...I want to...but why do you want me to come?"<br>He was silent.  
>"I...kinda don't...wanna be alone right now," he said finally.<br>I felt even worse about seeing him cry.

For the next few days I went to bed at around the same time, the first time on purpose. He cried the same way every night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I woke up with the left side of my face completely numb. I groaned to myself. I had fallen asleep in my workshop again. It was becoming an all too frequent occurence. I rubbed at my swollen eyes half-heartedly, because at this point I didn't really care where I slept, and jumped a little when I saw him. I hadn't seen him in my workshop for a long time. He says coming here makes him feel stupid. I don't know why. It's not like I tease him in here or anything.  
>He was sitting in the Tornado, running his hand up and down the dash over and over and over, like he wasn't paying attention. I would have advised him not to do it. I hadn't cleaned it in a while, and his gloves were going to get dirty from the dust. He wasn't paying attention at all, though, because he was just staring and staring, and he didn't know I was looking at him.<br>"You can stop staring at me, " he said.  
>I guess he did know.<br>"You've gotta stop drifting off in here," he told me, putting his hand in his lap. "It's not good for you."  
>"I know," I said, trying not to stretch, "but I just wanted to-"<br>"-get this done, which turned into something else, which turned into something else, I know," said Sonic, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "That's always how it is with you. You're never done."  
>I blinked. I wasn't sure how I should take it. He wasn't saying it angrily or anything, he was saying it like it was a fact, but Sonic so rarely talked like that I was confused. "All I'm sayin' is, look after yourself," he continued, propping his feet on the dash and crossing his legs, "no one's gonna do it for ya."<br>"Not even you?"  
>"I ain't gonna be around forever."<br>"Are you going somewhere?"  
>He laughed.<br>"Eventually."  
>When I sat there, not responding, he looked at me and smiled a bit. "Now who doesn't understand who?"<br>"I always try to-"  
>"I know, I know, I'm only joshing you." After a second he said, "You wanna be like me when you're older, don't you."<br>"Well," I said, looking at the floor.  
>"That's not a smart idea."<br>"That doesn't mean I don't think it is."  
>"Tails, why don't you use this plane anymore?"<br>I knew the answer to that one, a small victory over my confusion. Sonic was talking in riddles. "I don't use it because it's too old. It's made of wood with some rather tenuous aluminum tacked on for the rocket. I don't want it to shatter."  
>"Exactly," said Sonic. "Um..." I said.<br>Sonic hopped out of the plane and onto the desk in about a second and a half, making me thankful I hadn't been making any blueprints because they would've been blown all over the floor. Sonic crossed his arms behind his head and leaned against the wall.  
>"I don't want to explain it," he said. "If you don't understand then maybe you're not ready to."<br>"I want to," I said helplessly.  
>He grinned at me and rubbed the top of my head roughly. "I know, buddy. But what I'm getting at is a bit heavy, and I don't like to think about it myself."<br>"But you've been thinking about it way too much lately, haven't you?" I said, thinking of him behind the closed door night after night. When he gave me a quick look I realized I had spoken without thinking.  
>"Maybe," he said. Abruptly he got off the desk and headed for the door. "Get out of here and go to bed," he told me. "And stop spending so much time in here, anyways. Go play with your friends."<br>"I don't have any friends," I said, closing down the computer and following him out. He snorted.  
>"Cream ain't your friend? Amy ain't? Go keep Knuckles company, even. Just...just stop hanging out on your own. It ain't good for ya."<br>He was saying it like he knew better. 


	3. Chapter 3

bChapter Three/b

I did as he asked and spent the next day with Cream, who was growing up fast and was no

longer as interested in cutesy things as she used to be. I will admit that she is pretty,

but I really don't see myself as interested in her as anything more than a friend. I

mention this because Sonic asks me sometimes about whether I want a girlfriend or not, and

she's the closest and I know her the best. Or maybe I need to spend more time with her

first. I don't know.

Even though I wasn't in my workshop at all that day, I still returned home late at night.

Me and Cream got to talking, you see, and when you're talking with a friend you haven't

seen in a while, you lose track of time. I only ended up leaving because we started

laughing so hard her mom came downstairs surprised that I was still there. She wasn't mad

though. She understood about old friends and old times.

So when I got back home I didn't really know what time it was, only that it was dark out

(which could have meant any time after seven), and that I was kind of hungry only I didn't

feel like eating (which happens to me a lot, especially when I'm working on something).

So I just had a glass of milk and went up to go to bed, because sleeping with your face on

your desk doesn't do a lot of good for deep cycle sleep. I went upstairs and decided to

see how Sonic was doing, and to thank him for his good advice. I had had a lot of fun

with Cream.

His door was open. The light was on. I didn't know. I guess he thought I wasn't coming

home that night.

"Hey Sonic!" I said cheerfully, leaning through the doorway. I didn't get farther than

that because I noticed with horror that Sonic was trying to compose himself with super

speed, only it wasn't working because you don't stop crying like that on the spot.

I didn't know what to do. I supposed I was going to have to tell him I had seen it

before, and that I had heard it every night I had gone to bed late.

He gave up trying to straighten himself out and shook his head violently. "Just go," he

said in a choked voice. "Just go."

I didn't think I could do that. It wouldn't be right. Not now. I was scared. But I

couldn't leave now.

I swallowed hard, suddenly glad I hadn't eaten anything because my stomach was now tying

itself into hard, twisted knots, and the milk I had drunk was congealing among them. But

I walked over to Sonic, where he was lying on his stomach on his bed, sobbing into his

arms with his face pressed into his pillows, and I sat down and rubbed his head gently

between his ears. I knew he liked that.

"Damn you," he whispered, and sat up a little. So I started to hug him, and to my

surprise instead of pushing me off, like I had expected him to do, he collapsed into me

and cried harder. When my fur stayed dry my heart stopped a minute. He had been crying a

long time. He was crying so hard it was an understatement to call it crying. The only

thing I could think of to describe it was the phrase 'gut-wrenching sobs', and that was

what I imagined it feeling like, if our positions were reversed. His whole body was

shuddering violently with each breath and the sole purpose of doing so was to have it come

out again as a shaking sob. All of him, every little piece of his being, was devoted to

trying to cry out whatever thing was eating him from the inside out, but it wasn't working.

I stayed like that for a long, long time, not moving except to occasionally rub between

his ears a little. I was trying really hard to, I don't know, give off an aura of comfort

or something, I guess. I wanted him to know that it was going to be okay, but I didn't

want to talk.

And I didn't know if it was going to be okay.

I didn't know what was causing my big brother this unbearable pain.

After forever he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. They were red, and must have been very

dry. He rubbed at them a while, like he was pretending I wasn't there. Or he wanted me

to go away and forget this ever happened. When he was finished rubbing his eyes he didn't

look at me. He started to wring his hands together.

I supposed I had better give him the privacy he had wanted in the first place, and climbed

off the bed. I didn't get any farther than that when he said, in a very choked and dry

voice, "Where are you going?"

"I thought you wanted me to leave."

He laughed humourlessly. "Not really."

I sat back down. "How long has this been going on?" I asked.

He sniffed a little and shrugged carelessly. "Who knows? And who cares?"

"I do!" I said defensively.

"Mm-hm," he said as if he didn't believe me. "Then where were you all afternoon?"

"I was at Cream's!" I said. "Like you said I should do! Where did you think I was?"

"I thought you were in your workshop," he said. "Sorry."

"Why did you think that?"

"When you walk in the door at two in the morning, where else would you have been?" he said

disdainfully.

"It-it wasn't-"

"It sure was," said Sonic. "I hope you weren't up to anything over there."

I blushed and Sonic smiled, like he meant it. "Sorry bud, I know you weren't, I'm just

teasing you again."

"Trying to cheer yourself up?" I said quietly.

His face fell and he stopped looking at me again. "Damn you're good," he said.

"I'd like to think I know you by now."

"That's an interesting way to put it," said Sonic. "You'd like to think?"

"I have no idea why you've been crying like this every night," I said, going for it this

time. "I mean, if I was so sad that I cried without tears every single night, I think I'd

look for help after a day or two of it. And I kind of thought maybe you would too."

"That was mean, Tails," he said quietly.

"Well, Sonic," I said, "I can't fix the problem if you're hiding it from me."

"I don't want you to know."

"Then don't say I don't care!" I said, yelling by accident. He flinched and I instantly

felt bad.

"I should probably go," I said. "I'm only going to make it worse."

"Only if you leave."

"What do you mean?"

"Will-will you-" he said, fighting to get the words out. "I mean, it's been a long time

since-but I don't want you to think I-oh, never mind, just go then."

"Okay, " I said, and I turned the light off and closed the door. I guess he thought I

left because his whole body kind of slumped in disappointment until he felt me climb into

bed beside him.

"You-you don't mind?" he said.

"No," I said. "What kind of a person do you think I am?"

He laughed a little and I hoped I had made him smile. He lay down and tentatively put an

arm over my shoulders.

"I don't mind if you hug me, Sonic," I said in a pretend exasperated voice. "When you

wake up tomorrow you can pretend you were your usual self and you didn't need me to

comfort you."

"No, I can't," he said.

"Now I have to tell you." 


	4. Chapter 4

bChapter Four/b

He didn't tell me then, though, and he still hadn't told me a week later. He didn't come back after his run that morning, but he sent me a text message saying that he had met up with Dr. Eggman on his way back and was going to have to stop him. I messaged him back, asking him where he was so I could come and help him, but he told me he would deal with it himself. I didn't go and visit anyone all week. I wanted to be at home in case he came back. I went to bed at a reasonable time though. I spent the week cleaning up my workshop. Yes, it was that dirty. At the end of every day I was more grey than orange.

He came back a few days later, looking extremely irritated, as if Knuckles had just bested him in a wisecrack fight, which he had only done once and would probably never do again. He slammed the door, which actually wasn't that unusual, and threw his shoes at the wall. That was unusual. I hadn't seen him take them off in forever. He wears them to bed, in case of emergencies.

"Uh, Sonic? I don't think that did much for the paint," I said lightly.

"I don't give a shit, Tails," Sonic said. "Why does the goddamn paint mean so much to you anyways? It's not like you spend time in here or anything."

Ouch.

"I guess you had a long day," I said.

"No shit, Sherlock," said Sonic, and he only says that to me when he's really mad. Which is to say once before, when he almost lost a race because he wasn't allowed to wear his sneakers during it. (The people he was racing thought they had rockets in them, but they cheated, almost making him lose).

"Ookay, I'll leave now," I said.

"What? Is that supposed to be news? Am I supposed to be surprised? Where are you going? Your workshop?" he sneered.

"Uh, well actually I was thinking about making dinner," I said. "Do you want anything?"

All of a sudden his strange behaviour vanished and he slumped. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm being an asshole and it's not your fault. You have a life and I don't. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"I don't have a life," I said. "My workshop is the world to me."

"Yeah. And it will get you somewhere eventually. You'll invent something amazing and everyone will love you," he said in a dead voice, collapsing in a heap on the couch.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"My feet hurt," he said.

"Have you been running a long time?"

"Yeah."

"He made you chase him?"

"Yeah."

"One of those bots that doesn't stop moving?"

"Yeah."

"It's a good thing you love running," I said.

He looked at me.

"I did."

"You don't?"

"Not anymore."

I sat down. "Explain it to me," I said.

"You love building planes, right?"

"Right."

"How would you feel if you were forced to build planes all the time, constantly, and not for yourself, but for everybody else? How would you feel if every time you built a plane somebody took it away from you, no matter how hard you tried to keep it?"

"I would feel...well, I would feel a lot of things."

"Explain it to me."

"I would be sad, because I would want to keep them...I would be angry, because of what people are making me do all the time...I would be frustrated..."

"Right," said Sonic. "You nailed it. That's how I feel."

"About..."

"C'mon Tails, piece it together."

"...running?"

"Running," said Sonic. "Yeah, I used to love running. I ran everywhere, all the time. Nonstop. Morning, noon and night. Never wanted to stop, always someplace to go. Then people started forcing me to run. Some people started hurting other people, and because I was so fast I could just run after them, stop them. But they don't stop. Now they bait me. Set up traps for me and try to rebuild me. Every time I think maybe I can run because I want to, I run because I have to.

"And I hate it."

"Then don't do it," I said. "I know it will be hard, but you have to ignore them."

"I can't," he said. "I can't do that. There's something in me that could never let me do that. But if I didn't have those damn things," he said, pointing at his shoes, "I would be able to."

"Want me to get rid of them?"

"No," said Sonic. "That would be just as wrong as ignoring them."

"I'm not sure how I would do it anyways," I admitted. "They're just about indestructible."

"Yay," said Sonic.

"But you run in the morning, don't you?" I said, remembering.

"I have to," said Sonic. "I'm addicted to the adrenaline now."

That hit me hard. Sonic had done so much running for so long that his body needed adrenaline just as much as a smoker needed nicotine.

Suddenly he started to cry, and with a shock I realized he must have been holding back all this time. It was the same horrible crying as before, but this time he was trying to talk to me and it wasn't happening.

"Ssh, you can tell me after," I said, and he nodded and let me hug him again.

From then on I stayed with him when he cried. There was no way I could pretend I didn't know, and I didn't really want to. He would cry until he fell into an exhausted, troubled sleep, sometimes for so long that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stay awake. Even as he slept he cried sometimes, and I couldn't even begin to imagine the burden that was so horrible it caused the emptiness of his slumber to become corrupt. The one time I woke up as he was leaving for his run, he was slowly rubbing his head back and forth, back and forth, and then he rubbed at his swollen eyes just as slowly.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, and he didn't even seem surprised that I was awake.

"My head hurts," he said. "Every day I wake up, and my head hurts."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't say that," he snapped. "You have nothing to do with it. This all started a long time ago, before..."

He trailed off and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know what you meant, little buddy."

He got up and left.

The next day he shook me awake and asked me to come with him. "Sorry to wake you, but I..."

He didn't need to finish. In the dim morning light I could see that his face was wet and he was still shaking.

"You should have woken me earlier," I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes, but almost before I had finished he was shaking his head.

"Just because I don't sleep doesn't mean you shouldn't," he said. "You're young. You need to sleep."

"You're young too, Sonic," I said, and he smiled sadly.

"I was," he said.

I kept up with him pretty good, since he had taught me to run eons ago, but I'm sad to say I'm not really that fit. Sonic's right. I need to leave my workshop sometimes. But we were going along pretty good, and although every inch of me burned for oxygen that my straining lungs fought to provide, I was feeling pretty good.

There was a loud crack and Sonic disappeared. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I stopped, realizing he was probably part of the noise, and turned around. He was sitting on the ground, scowling, holding his right knee with both hands.

"Can you fix it?" he asked, since I can heal minor injuries, but when I began to gently probe his knee, trying to ignore his fingers digging into the dirt as his face lined with pain, I knew that I would do more harm than good.

"I think you shattered your kneecap," I said. "Once it's been set I can fix it, but I can't piece it back together through healing."

"At home can you? Do the surgery or whatever, I mean?"

"Y-you want me to do it?"

"I can only have the best," he said, flashing an increasingly rare grin at me, "and that would be you."

"Well, thanks, I guess," I said, and he laughed. I felt a lot better when I heard it. I was starting to think he could never be happy.

I flew home with his fingers firms around my wrists, and it reminded me of other days, when nothing was quite as serious as it was now. I had Sonic lie down on a table which I hastily cleared off in my workshop and lay a sheet of paper from the roll I draw my blueprints on. He got onto the table without waiting or asking for help, and to his credit only a little pain creased his brows. He lay down and I expected him to joke about being on his deathbed or about the horrible service in this hospital, but he only closed his eyes and waited. I took an x-ray of his knee and studied it carefully. Despite Sonic's confidence in me, I really didn't think I knew what to do. When I asked him if he wanted me to put him to sleep or give him a painkiller, he shook his head. I knew it was because Sonic hated not having control, but it was going to be very painful for both of us and I told him so. He refused to change his mind.

For the millionth time I marveled at his strength and determination. He was so strong that it made me sad all of a sudden to remember that there was something causing him such pain inside that he couldn't escape it even through sleep, and I turned around and put my head in my hands, trying not to cry.

"You don't want to do it?" he called, misinterpreting my body language, and I shook my head.

"Something else," I said. "Tell you later."

After I started the surgery he talked to me about this and that, mostly about things we should be doing that we weren't, and I welcomed the chatter. It made the task easier to bear. I was so relieved to hear his voice that I relaxed a little. We hadn't really been talking lately. We barely even saw each other. When we did, we didn't really say anything. I guess our minds were elsewhere.

He told me, a little shyly, that since Amy had stopped chasing him he had started paying a little attention to her, and that he thought she was actually kind of pretty. "She's real nice too," he said. "I never noticed before."

"She's waiting for you," I said.

"Maybe not for too much longer," he said. "If she actually is waiting."

"I'm sure she is," I said. "If anything she'll try to make you jealous."

"She tried that one, remember 'Dexter', the amazing plane-flying super boyfriend?"

"She can always try it again," I said. "If anything she's stubborn."

He laughed and said he'd keep it in mind. He didn't talk for too long after that, and when I looked up for a second to iron out the kink in my neck I saw that his fists were clenched and his face was a mask of pain. Every now and again his leg would twitch, him fighting every instinct in his body that must of been screaming for him to take his knee away from the source of the pain. I admired him so much when I thought about the pain he must have been bearing.

After I finished setting his patella I healed the incisions, and his whole body, rigid and tense for the entirety of the surgery, immediately went limp and he sighed in relief. "Thanks man," he said. "I owe ya. And not just one either, about three."

"Nah," I said. "I only did it 'cause I hate hearing you complain."

He nodded, knowing I was trying to cheer him up but being unable to do so. He disappeared and by the time I went back to the house I could see that he had eaten some soup and drunk a little milk.

I went upstairs as well, too tired to eat, and went into his room to see if he was okay. He had collapsed on his bed on his stomach, the side of his face pressed into the sheet, and after hesitating I climbed in beside him. I hoped he would sleep better if I was there.

When I woke with a start, he was gone, and I felt a rush of despair. I fell out of bed and ran outside, where I figured he would be. He was there, crying those terrible dry tears again, rocking back and forth in agony, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. I knelt down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Damn," he whispered. "I woke you up anyways."

"I don't mind," I said. "But I think you'd better tell me what's wrong. I know you don't want to, but it's destroying you from the inside out."

He nodded and tried to speak, but I guess the thought of it overwhelmed him and he buried his face in my chest and I tried so hard to comfort him. I wanted to cry myself. His pain was so palpable I was starting to feel it. He cried for forever, until my eyes felt dry and swollen, my body was screaming for motion and my brain felt like lead. When he stopped crying he did not sleep, but leaned against me with shudders wracking his long body.

I must have fallen asleep then because I opened my eyes to see his bedroom wall, and one by one things phased into my consciousness. I realized he was hugging me in his lap, one hand stroking the top of my head absently, and when I tipped it up to look at him his eyes were glistening with tears. He saw me looking at him and shook his head.

"Go back to sleep," he said. "Please."

He never said please.

I looked at him, trying to gauge if I should ignore the rare politeness and struggle to stay awake. His eyes had dark lines beneath them, grooves that sadness and sleeplessness had worn there. He looked at me from beneath sagging lids that blinked slowly. I wondered if he couldn't sleep or if he was trying to stay awake. He looked so exhausted.

I settled down into the warmth of the blanket and the comfort of his body and closed my eyes, hearing his light, rhythmic breaths and feeling his heart pound away in his chest. It was all so reassuring and cozy that it brought me to another time, and a wave of intense sadness hit me hard. A longing for my parents, dead for years now, caused a shuddering sigh to burst from me, and I felt tears in my eyes.

Sonic had been happy then.

The days and nights were so long now it felt like childhood had happened a million years ago. I couldn't imagine him having been happy recently. Had it really only been two weeks since I had first held him as he cried? They had blurred into an incoherent mash of semi-awareness, and I realized I couldn't remember what we had done all this time. I suddenly missed my father, whom I had barely ever seen, with a desperation I hadn't felt since I was a baby and he had gone away after I had seen him for the first time.

"Ssh," Sonic said, and I'm sure he read my thoughts then. "Go to sleep, Tails. It can wait."

So I made myself forget everything but the soft touch of his hand on my head, and the caring he was trying to show me through it, and I closed my eyes and sank thankfully into sleep. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sonic was drowsing, the state in which you're sleeping but don't think you are. His eyes were only half closed, and he blinked occasionally. His stomach growled and he made a face. When it grumbled louder he sighed in irritation and sat up straight. I sat up too and looked at him.

"Don't even to near me right now," he said angrily, kicking off the blanket. I never understood how he could sleep with his shoes on under the blanket. "I'm so fucking pissed right now. I'm starving and tired and I smell like shit because I can't remember the last time I was motivated enough to take a shower. God I don't even want to know what my feet must smell like."

He swung off the bed and stormed off.

He hadn't been showering?

Sonic had always impressed upon me the importance of taking care of my body. "You only get one," he would say when I tried to get out of brushing my teeth, "and you gotta take care of it 'cause the important parts don't give you second chances."

His problem was more extreme than I'd thought. It seemed to be driving him into a depression. If Sonic was unable to maintain his hygiene, something extremely important to him, then I needed to get to the bottom of his problem as soon as possible.

However, I didn't want to bother him when he had so obviously rejected my company, and I ate some cereal and decided to check my email; I didn't want to think about all of the clients I had been ignoring to take care of Sonic. It was late when I got back to the house, irritated with one of my nastier clients. I was in no mood to deal with Sonic's sulking today, I told myself. Tonight, I'm going to get a good night's sleep and-

The most amazing smell hit my nose when I opened the front door. My stomach growled and I realized I hadn't been eating very much lately. I ran into the kitchen and thunked myself down in front of the oven. It was a shepherd's pie, and it wasn't frozen either. Sonic had made it.

Now, you have to understand that Sonic is an AMAZING cook, and anything he's ever made me has tasted delicious. He doesn't do it often because it takes too long. When he does cook, it has to be the best, because he has to be the best. A trait that can try my patience at times, but that I was extremely grateful for at the moment.

"It does look good," said Sonic, as if he hadn't spent the last however many hours making it. My stomach answered for me and I blushed. Sonic lauhed and said "I take it you want some!"

His laugh was strong and...and...happy.

He nudged me out of the way with one of his (massive) sneakers so he could take the thing of beauty out of the oven. My mouth was watering so badly I almost couldn't swallow fast enough. He brought it to the table and I followed almost helplessly.

"Down the middle?" he asked, knowing I could probably eat that much, and I really wanted to, but I had to shake my head. "A little more on your side," I said, because no matter how hungry I was, he had to be a lot hungrier. He did as I asked without comment and we sat down to the best-tasting meal we'd had in eternity. We ate like we'd never eat again, no other purpose existing for us except to finish what was on our plates.

Sonic was done first, of course, following the pie down with a large quantity of water and finishing with a long, loud burp. He blinked in surprise and wiped his mouth. "Sorry," he said. "I guess I ate too fast, huh? God I was starving though."

Sonic gave me a look and said, "Don't talk with food in your mouth, kiddo." It was one of those things Sonic did. He tried to make sure I was polite, didn't swear, took care of myself, and so one, even if he didn't. He was trying his best to raise me right, though he hated it when I told him he was. "I'm guiding you," he would say. "Parents raise. Brothers guide. I ain't your dad."

I never told him that when I was younger, when my dad was at war and Sonic was the one teaching me to climb trees and telling me to clean my room, making me feel safe when I was scared and explaining why I should eat my broccoli, I sometimes pretended he was. When I was sick it was Sonic who took care of me, and when I was bored it was Sonic who played with me, no matter what. Some days I hated my dad for leaving me, for having me when he knew he'd never be around, and Sonic would sit me down in his lap and look me in the eye. In those days his eyes were still black and I would feel like I was getting lost in them. "Tails, " he would say, "don't you ever say bad things about your daddy. He works real hard and he really wants to be with you, but he can't. Your daddy is the best soldier in the whole wide world, and you should be real proud of him for that. And the best thing he ever did was make you be born. Your dad will teach ya stuff, you just wait. And it'll be stuff you remember forever too. But I don't wanna hear you say that about your daddy again. You only gots one you know."

In those days I didn't understand what he meant. How could my dad be so amazing if he never came home? And if he loved me so much why didn't he come? I was so sure that my dad would never mean anything to me, ever. But my dad did teach me a lot, even though I was only with him for a few weeks at most in my life, and I did come to appreciate who he was and why he did what he did. I love my dad, but he didn't raise me. Sonic did.

Sonic waved at me and asked if I was still on the planet. I realized I had gone into a reverie and apologized. He laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. And thanks, by the way."

After we had done the dishes (Sonic would not let me do them alone, even though he had made dinner; he's stubborn that way) he asked me if I would play chess with him. I was shocked. He doesn't like playing games with me because he always loses. Unless we play a game that's all about memory. Sonic's got me beat there. Well, I guess it's the losing he hates and not the playing...but he never won a chess game in his life. I don't mean to brag or anything, but I've been beating him since I was two.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I thought you hated chess."

"I feel like playing," he said.

I guess he was having a strange day.

I tried not to thrash him, really I did, but it's so hard for me to scale back. It feels like I'm cheating on a test or something. And it's really hard not to destroy someone who somehow mixes up their king and queen on a regular basis. (Sorry Sonic).

After we were done we put it away and Sonic decided we were having ice cream and watching a movie. That sounded like a good plan to me and I went along with it. Then Sonic said he wanted to watch Inception.

I'm not trying to insult Sonic, I would never do that, but I learned the cold, hard truth a while ago: Sonic's not that smart. I believed he was a genius until he dropped out of grade nine because of his dyslexia, and I had to sadly abandon that notion. He was so good at hiding it that not even I knew he couldn't read. He read kitsune perfectly well, because it's all pictures as I know now, but when I was young I didn't understand how someone as awesome as Sonic couldn't read. He's smart in his own way, but sometimes his recklessness comes off as intelligence. It's not easy realizing your favourite person in the whole world isn't as smart as you are, although he had told me so my whole life and childlishly I had not believed him. But believe me, learning that, at six years old, I was smarter than most adults shattered my world. It still upsets me to this day.

So Sonic wanting to watch a movie like that is a bit suspect, like maybe he was only saying that because he knew I liked it. But when he shook his head and said, "I'll watch it with or without you," I believed him.

It's a long movie and it kind of looked like he was sleeping through it. That was no big deal; he had gotten so little sleep lately I didn't care if he dozed through a movie he wouldn't really understand. But when it was over he asked me a few questions about it that really surprised me. That's something I like about Sonic. You can never underestimate him.

I was heading to my room for some long-awaited sleep when Sonic stopped me and asked why I was going to sleep alone.

"Well, I don't want to intrude on your privacy," I said. "I know you like this time to yourself."

My brother shuffled his sneakers a little, looked at the floor, then back at me, then said, "Look, I know it's sucked living with me lately, and don't you dare deny it. I can barely live with me, I don't know how you can do it. I'm trying to do stuff, get my mind off...well, go back to my old self, I guess. And when you're around, it helps. If you don't mind, I...I'd appreciate it if..."

I didn't make him finish. Sonic feels awkward when talking about how he feels about stuff, which is why he doesn't do it. He never feels like he's explained himself the way he wants to. But I understood and I didn't mind. I honestly had no idea why we had stopped sleeping in the same bed in the first place. I guess we both kind of felt like it was something we weren't allowed to do. It was hard for me to sleep alone for ages, after sleeping with him my whole life.

"Sure," I said, and it felt so nice to crawl into the bed because it was warm and soft and cozy and smelled good.

"Fresh outta the dryer," Sonic said, throwing himself and his sneakers onto the bed. (I say this because his feet are so big sometimes they seem separate from him.) "Sorry if any of our socks got mixed up, bud."

I knew he was kidding and it would have been really funny if I wasn't slowly being enveloped in a blanket of sleep. But I felt like I was sinking into the mattress with a feeling I hadn't felt in years, of safety and security, of a time when Sonic was my safety fence and the world would never touch me because he would always stop it, and in a flash the last two weeks surged through my brain all at once and I felt the unconditional love for my big brother that I had felt all those years ago. I settled my head close to his bristly fur and he put his arm around me.

"What would I do without you, big guy?" he asked, smiling at me, and the last thing I remember was the burst of pride I got when I remembered I was indispensible to the famous Sonic the Hedgehog. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

His crying woke me.

I sat up, trying to discern how bad it was, if it was a different problem, and if so, was it private, when he looked at me and sniffed a little. "Go back to sleep," he said, tears running down his face, "I can deal with this."

"But-"

"It's not bad, I promise, I'm almost done."

I didn't know how he could possibly know such a thing, but I supposed if he said he did it was true, and lay back down. But I didn't sleep until after he got up, blew his nose, and lay back down with dry eyes. In the morning it was as if he had slept fine, and when he came back from his run he made the most amazing pancakes I'd ever seen. Sonic had celiac disease, you see, and even though they had to be made with rice flour they still tasted better than any other pancakes I'd had in my life. They made me a little sad for my mom's pancakes though. Sonic seemed to have known they would and did not put chocolate

chips in them like she would have. And not a lot of people know this, but Sonic actually loves chocolate and it was pretty nice of him to think about how I would feel about it.

After breakfast we were playing Scrabble (and Sonic was lamenting the fact that there were no math games; he was good at math) and I was helping Sonic with his spelling (he can't spell worth beans) when a whole bunch of people walked through the door in a panic. Dr Eggman had to be stopped and only Sonic could catch him. He was going to seed the planet with poison at the speed of sound. He was done playing games.

They were all screaming and yelling and crying for Sonic to save them, save them, and he was standing there looking lost. He asked for the Chaos Emeralds and they told him that Dr Eggman had all of them. That was how he had been able to build his machine.

I stood on the outside, hoping along with everybody else that Sonic would know what to do. But I sensed something bad was about to happen, and waited for him.

He fell to the ground and started to cry.

They all stared at him like it wasn't really him on the ground, that he had left and this was someone else. But no. It was Sonic, sobbing his poor, broken heart out, while they all stared at him as he tried to hide his face.

I hid it for him.

I helped him up and he tried to say something, but I shook my head and led him back inside. Then we sat down on the couch and he cried into my shoulder. They were the same horrible cries as before, but somehow they had gotten worse.

"Don't you see, Tails? Isn't it obvious? Why I cry every fucking night now when I never cried before?"

I was beginning to see.

He was being asked to do the impossible again.

No, he was being ordered to.

"Over and over again, I have to stop him. Me and only me. I used to love it, Tails, I used to love playing hero. I loved being the one everybody looked to

when there was a problem. I loved being the leader.

"But then I wasn't in control anymore. Suddenly I had to stop anyone any time of day, whackos and psychos and that damn Dr Eggman, and they keep getting stronger and smarter and I keep staying the same. I need help but no one will offer, because I've always been enough! I need to stop, I can't keep doing this for the rest of my life! I don't even want to!"

All of a sudden I noticed that Amy was there, in tears herself. She got up from where she was sitting on the table and sat beside him, putting an arm around

his shaking shoulders. He looked at her and she looked right back at him.

"I'm afraid," he whispered. "I'm afraid this time I'll go out and I won't come back. I don't know why I feel that way, but I do."

"I'll come with you, in the X-Tornado," I said. "You won't be alone."

"I'm coming with you, Tails," said Amy. I could see she understood exactly what Sonic's problem was and was ready to do whatever it took to take some of the incredible pressure off his shoulders. That was when I knew she truly loved him.

"You guys are great, but you can't come," Sonic said, drying his eyes. "If you got hurt..."

"Sonic!" protested Amy, but I said, "Sonic, I know you're used to doing these things alone. My guess is you think you have to, now. But you don't. We'll

be right there beside you, and don't you worry about us. It's time someone worried about you."

Sonic sat there a second, then hugged me so hard I thought I was going to stop breathing. He didn't hesitate to hug Amy as well, and she only touched his

shoulder and gave him a warm smile in return.

"Well, let's get this over with," said Sonic, and Amy and I ran for my plane. In minutes we were speeding across Emerald Hill in search of Dr Eggman.

Every now and again Sonic would rub at his chest a little as he ran. I'd never seen him do anything like that before.

Why was he doing it?

When we caught up to the doctor Sonic put on a huge burst of speed and left us in the dust, and I mean huge. Within thirty seconds all we could see was the dirt he kicked up as he ran. I gave the X-Tornado all I could and we were soon within sight again. Dr Eggman was laughing and speeding just out of Sonic's reach, and Sonic was showing signs of strain. He wasn't fast enough, but he would never believe that. He would never give up.

The strain on his face increased the longer he kept going. We were going somewhere around three hundred and fifty kilometers an hour, and he was ahead of us by a good ten meters, increasing the distance between us little by little as he found some strength deep inside him. I had the throttle wide open and it wasn't going to get any wider.

Suddenly Sonic's expression flashed from strained to confused to fear, all in a few seconds, and he didn't even try to stop, just collapsed with his arms around himself. His body hit the ground with incredible speed, and my heart was leaping out of my chest as it seemed like hours went by before he stopped moving. After I landed the plane Amy and I fairly flew out of it and immediately could see that it wasn't good. He was badly gouged and bruised and he had a massive nosebleed. Amy bent down and carefully picked him up. For a moment she looked surprised.

"He doesn't weigh a thing," she said. We went back to the plane, Amy looking as if she were about to cry, and we started to clean him up as best we could. We had to put him in a chair and recline it all the way back; there was nowhere else to put him.

After a while he moaned softly and opened his eyes. I asked him what had happened.

"I have no fucking idea," he said, his eyes closed tightly against what must have been a massive onslaught of pain. "I felt this knife in my chest, and I just froze up and went down."

He took a long, shaky breath, and whimpered a little.

"It hurts," he said.

"What hurts?" I asked.

"Everything," he said, and without warning he turned away from us and vomited profusely. He returned to his original position and covered his face with his face with his hands.

"I'm so sorry, Tails," he whispered, and I knew he was about to cry.

"It's okay," I said. "But saying everything hurts doesn't help me fix the problem."

"My chest hurts the most," he said, his voice clearing a little now that he had something to focus on. "My head is caving in...and that knee is swelling up, I think I twisted it when I went down..."

We made him as comfortable as we could (all I had was a first aid kit), and while Amy was wrapping his knee I took his pulse. His heart was beating so fast I almost couldn't count it, and I knew his heart rate went up pretty high when he was running, but he had been at rest now for ten minutes. It should have been at one fifty. It was at about two hundred and fifty. He must have been really scared, and in more pain than I had thought.

I was pretty sure he had had a heart attack, and if we didn't calm him down he was in danger of having another one. I was about to explain it to him but it was too late. He cried out and curled up defensively against his own body, which was betraying him and could not be blocked by his now-stiff quills, and within moments he had gone unconscious.

"Oh God," said Amy. "Why is this happening to him?"

"All his life he's been destroying himself," I ventured slowly. "No body is meant to take what his does. He's starting to fall apart, Amy. He can't take the strain anymore."

"Why didn't he tell anyone?"

"Because he's the hero," I said. "He has to be invincible, and he's not. He was just asked to do the impossible again and he failed. He can't do this anymore."

"Will he be okay?" she asked.

"I think so. But if he doesn't slow down soon, he'll die."

We brought him into the house and lay him on his bed, making him as comfortable as we could. I turned to Amy, hoping she wouldn't take what I was about to say badly.

"Thank you so much for all of your help," I said. "I don't want to be rude, but I know he wouldn't want you to see him like this, if it wasn't really necessary."

I was thinking of his admission of how he felt about her.

"I understand, Tails," she said. "When he asks for me, let me know."

I smiled and gave her a hug. I don't really know why.

"Goodbye, Amy. Don't worry too much."

"Same to you," she said, waving, and she left. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Sonic did not wake up for several days, which worried me of course, but I was kind of glad. I knew he needed the rest. I had to make an IV for him because of it though. That was kind of scary for me because I wasn't a doctor and I really didn't know what I was doing.

When he finally woke up after four days or so it was slow, reluctant, and he looked at me as if I had been waiting to give an announcement.

"You won't be running anytime soon," I said.

"You're joking," he said.

"Nope," I answered.

"Thank God," he said, turning his head to face the ceiling again, "I never want to run again."

"One day," I said, and he nodded after a moment.

"One day, but for me, not for anybody else."

"The way it should always have been," I said. He smiled at me.

"Have I ever told you how smart you are?" he asked.

"Only eighty million times," I said.

"I guess we'd better make it eighty million and one," he said, and sighed. He must have been hurting a lot. Being scraped along the ground at over three hundred kilometers an hour had left gouges so deep I could see bone. The scary thing was they weren't actually that deep; Sonic was just that thin. From

bandaging his injuries I had learned that most of what was under his skin was muscle, with little to no fat, as if he were bulimic. Which he wasn't.

Was he?

"You're pretty skinny, Sonic," I ventured. "I never noticed before."

"Yeah," said Sonic. "If I were bald I'd weigh next to nothing, I think."

"You're eating okay, aren't you?"

He didn't answer. I took it as a no.

"Sometimes," he said finally. "But it's like...I'm locked in this horrible destructive cycle, Tails. I have to run, which means I get faster, and my metabolism has to speed up, it has to adapt. It gets harder and harder for me to eat enough to keep me satisfied for more than a few hours. And I have to eat the same sort of shit over and over. You can have a sandwich if you're hungry. If I have one, I feel like I didn't eat at all. It gets so frustrating. Mostly I only eat when I really have to now."

The whole explanation seemed to have tired him and he closed his eyes.

"Sonic," I said quietly, "why have you never told me any of this?"

"I didn't know how far it was going until a little while ago," he said. "After that it was because I didn't want to scare you."

"...scare me?"

"Tails," he said quietly. "My body is out of control and there's nothing I can do. At some point soon I'm going to have to get up and run, no matter how bad I'm messed, because I'm addicted to the adrenaline. I'm withdrawing right now and it's going to kill me."

That hit me hard. Sonic was being destroyed by the very thing he used to love most. I remembered how he used to come home when he was a kid, flushed and excited, babbling about how fast he was getting and how fast he would be when he grew up. He had dreamed then of breaking the sound barrier, but they day he did there was no joy in it. He didn't even know he had done it. He had been running for his life on the Stardust Speedway.

Now he could hit the sound barrier in twenty seconds if he tried.

"Can't you deal with it like any other drug addiction?" I suggested. "Just taper it off?"

"I ain't tapering," said Sonic. "I'm at zero or whatever a normal level of that shit is. And besides, how'm I supposed to know when to stop?"

"I'll think of something," I promised, but he only smiled faintly and closed his eyes.

He slept deeply for the rest of the day. Sadly it wasn't dreamless. He started to cry in his sleep late in the evening. Poor Sonic. He was so lost and helpless, trapped in a ring that tightened faster and faster around him, accelerating towards his own destruction all alone.

After debating with myself I decided to give him a shot of adrenaline every now and then. I didn't want to, but if I didn't he might get worse. I had heard that some addictions can kill the user if they don't use the drug for the rest of their lives, which was sad, especially for Sonic. He loved his freedom and that would feel like a chain to him. He was starting to shake uncontrollably and he had broken out in a cold sweat. I wanted him to feel better when he woke up, not worse. When he did wake up it was early the next morning. He asked if he could have a drink of water and I was happy to give it to him. I was surprised when he asked me to play chess with him. "You want to play again?" I asked.

"I ain't gonna get better if I don't play," he said, shrugging, and I took the board off the shelf.

I did my best to make him feel better, while being aware he could have no strain on his heart right now. It was still too fast, even for him. It made me wonder if he was that scared or if it was stuck there. Maybe a bit of both.

As we played he asked me what had happened the day he had collapsed. I was surprised he didn't know.

"You had a heart attack," I said.

He stared at me in shock.

"A heart attack?" he asked. "But-but I'm seventeen years old! Kids my age don't have heart attacks! Heart attacks are for fat old guys!"

"They do when their body weight is too low," I said. "You're too skinny to run like that anymore. You don't have the energy intake to keep up with your body's needs. A heart attack is a signal that you're doing something wrong."

"So I'm gonna die of a heart attack or my metabolism is gonna kill me. I'm so thrilled," he said bitterly.

"We'll figure something out," I said. "We always do."

He smiled.

"I hope so," he said.

I stayed with him constantly, not wanting to leave him alone. He didn't want to be left alone anyways. I felt like we were making up for lost time, sort of, as we filled the hours talking and doing what we could to distract ourselves from his pain and uncertain future. I was still very worried about him, as none of his injuries had healed at all and his knee must have been very painful, as it remained swollen no matter how I put the ice pack on it. I understood why his injuries weren't healing, but it still worried me. If he got an infection now I wasn't sure if he would make it. Not because I doubted the incredible force of his willpower, but because every bit of energy he had was devoted to the basic functioning of his vital organs. The IV was barely cutting it. After a couple of days he asked if I could give him some sort of food or something, "to get this show on the road," as he put it. It was never very much, usually just a bit of French onion soup, which he loved, but even a few mouthfuls caused him a lot of pain. No matter what I gave him, whether it be soup or adrenaline or the IV, it hurt him. He told me reluctantly, after a lot of prodding, that the IV made his arm feel like it was burning, that there wasn't enough adrenaline and it gave him a headache, and I knew that he had to strain very hard to keep his soup down. He always drank all of it, but even though it was only about a cup or so it sometimes took him forever, as he had to pause after each mouthful like he was swallowing liquid fire. Ingesting anything seemed to hurt his stomach because even after drinking water he would have to lie back for as long as ten minutes, his hands covering his belly and his face set in a mask of concentration. He rarely vomited, although I knew the lack of adrenaline gave him intense nausea. I was so proud of Sonic. He always tried to be cheerful, tried to make me smile because he knew how sad and worried I was, and he never complained no matter how extreme his pain or discomfort was, and I knew that for a time during each day it would get very bad. He would fall into an exhausted, deep sleep throughout the day, and during the night he would wake up crying his helpless, desperate tears.

It seemed to me that no matter what I did, his body rejected my efforts. It occurred to me that maybe it didn't want to live.

Was I keeping my brother alive against his will?

I asked him if he wanted to die and he laughed. "Hell no!" he said. "Why would you think that?"

"Your body rejects everything I do," I said.

"Yeah, I know, and it sucks ass too," said Sonic, "but I'm tryin', broski, I'm tryin'."

I didn't say anything more about it. He hadn't slept much the night before, and it was so hard on him. He couldn't pay attention to anything I said and was unusually listless. To my surprise he asked for the soup when I didn't give it to him, since I had thought he wouldn't want it, and after drinking it he lay back for a long time. I hoped he'd gone to sleep. But after a few moments more he groaned a little and his brow creased heavily. "Tails, I need to throw up, okay?" he said faintly. "I can't do this today."

I brought back the bowl and as soon as I gave it to him he coughed up the broth, and I was scared to see how weak he was. When he was done I took the bowl away and brought him a mouthful of water.

"I'm sorry, Tails," he said wearily. "You knew I couldn't do it. I should have listened."

"Don't worry about it. Thank you for trying, Sonic, that was the right thing to do. Rinse your mouth out, okay?" I said, and he did so carefully, not wanting to swallow a drop of the liquid. He hated showing weakness in front of me and throwing up was one of the worst things on the list. As it was he retched after he spat the water out, but if there was anything left inside his stomach he was able to hold it there. He lay back with his eyes closed, exhausted from the effort. "Tails," he mumbled, "I want another shot of adrenaline."

"No," I said firmly. "I don't know what it will do. You are very weak, Sonic, and your heart is still beating too fast and I don't know why. If I just give you a whole lot of adrenaline it could easily trigger another heart attack and kill you."

"Okay," he said. "I just thought it might help with all this withdrawl shit."

"I'll try to raise it slowly," I said, and he nodded and stopped moving. He was asleep at long last.

I realized the implications of what I had told him, and it hit me that maybe I couldn't save him in time. By the time I figured out what his normal adrenaline level was and brought it back up, it might be too late. For the first time I accepted the thought that he might really die, and all of a sudden I knew how Sonic felt, trapped alone in an empty black void. To my horror the sobs that shook him night after night were now choking out of me.

The task was too big for me. I couldn't do it.

Sonic was going to die. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Somehow I heard him over my choking gasps. "Tails, come here," he said weakly. I struggled to get a hold of myself and shook my head. "Go to sleep," I said as best I could. "You need it so much."

"Do you think I can sleep with you cryin' like that?" he said tiredly. I knew he couldn't ignore me if I cried, he had never been able to, and I almost ran into his arms. His embrace was weak, so very weak, but steady, and this time it was me who cried until I had no strength left, and I fell into an awful sleep in which it didn't feel like I was sleeping at all. When I came out of the slumber I was cranky and upset. I fought my brother's gentle hug, but he looked at me with those eyes and I stopped struggling, ashamed. You won't know what I mean if he's never looked you in the eye.

"Just sleep, okay?" he whispered, managing to hug me tight. I folded into him like I was a kid again and closed my eyes to make the sadness go away.

I was lucky. When I woke up I felt lighter, less sad sort of, and he was watching me silently, making sure I was okay. I smiled at him. He smiled a little in return and let me go. "Did you stay awake the whole time?" I asked, seeing the fatigue lining his face, and he nodded slowly. "I couldn't sleep," he said.

"Why not? You must be exhausted." As he shrugged it hit me. "The adrenaline! Oh shit!"

"Tails!" Sonic shouted, and I froze in my tracks. Sonic didn't yell at me often. "I don't care what's going on, you don't swear, you hear me? You're smart, don't talk like you're dumb!"

"Sorry," I said, my heart still beating too fast, and cowed, I took the syringe and injected what had become a drug into Sonic's vein. Almost immediately he relaxed.

"Sorry for shouting," he said sleepily. "I just hate it when you insult your intelligence like that."

"I don't mind," I said, for some reason thinking of the people who should have been scolding me, and he gave me a sad smile and yawned hugely. His whole body was limp and loose, and his head was lolling in a way I didn't like. I went over and adjusted the pillows.

"Thanks," he said, barely audible. He moved his head until it rested on his shoulder and didn't move again. I cleaned his injuries, changing the bandages and hoped he wouldn't wake up, because if I didn't they would get infected, seeing as they wouldn't heal. His knee, like his other injuries, wasn't worse but it wasn't better. I hoped there would be no lasting damage from the swelling.

I sat down and rubbed my eyes, tired to the bone despite having just slept. I struggled to stop from thinking about the huge task of healing Sonic because I knew only I could do it and I felt so small and alone it scared me. But I couldn't think of it or I would cry, and Sonic would wake if I did. And God did he need sleep.

I must have needed it too because the next thing I knew I was rising out of a thick fog of sleep, groggy and not satisfied because I'd been sleeping on my desk again.

"Tails," Sonic said, and I looked at him blearily.

"Hm," I mumbled.

"I've been calling you for ten minutes," he told me. "You must be bushed, man."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I took this thing out 'cause that thing's empty," he said, holding up the IV line. I figured I should give you a headsup, since I'm pretty sure this is keeping what's left of me alive."

"Mm," I said, and replaced the drip. He put the line back in his arm and looked at me. "You don't go without sleep often, do you," he said. I shook my head. "Well, if you're gonna sleep, sleep in here with me. It'll do both of us good."

I nodded, my eyes barely open. "Do I need a shot of adrenaline, bud? I don't know how long you'll be checking out for."

"Good idea, " I said, somehow finding a syringe with my eyes closed. He took it from me and injected himself. He relaxed and put the empty syringe on the bedside table. I climbed into the bed and sort of collapsed onto him, hitting his knee with my tails by mistake. His cry of pain jolted me awake and he rolled onto his side, probably to hide the look of agony he must have had on his face. He had no resistance right now. I sat up anxiously.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"'s okay," he breathed. "It was an accident. Fucking hurts though." He rolled back over, pushed me down, and put his arm over me. Within moments he was asleep, but I was in shock over the clammy touch of his arm. The withdrawl was worsening, because I knew I had given him the adrenaline only a short time ago, and yet he had needed another syringe to sleep. His body was cold and slick with sweat. He needed to be washed. He'd been lying in the bed for too long.

I filed this away and closed my eyes. I needed to sleep so that I could think clearly.

When I opened my eyes I felt a lot better, until I saw that Sonic was sitting up, coughing uncontrollably, his hands bloody. I put a hand on his back and rubbed it gently. He slowly regained control and wiped the blood from his mouth. "You bastard," he said weakly, collapsing into the pillows, "way to take your fucking time."

I didn't look at him. I felt really bad.

"Take it easy, bro, I was harsh. Sorry. I was just so relieved you woke up, man. I...I thought I was gonna die."

I blocked this thought quickly and said, "You need to get up, Sonic. You have to be washed."

"Good," said Sonic. "I've lost track of how long I've been in this goddamned bed."

Very slowly I helped him to sit up. I was shocked to see how much he had deteriorated. It seemed like it had, but it hadn't really been that long since the accident. He was impossibly thin, his fur and quills limp and ragged. Some of it fell off as he moved.

I had to fix the adrenaline problem, fast.

He waited until I filled the bathtub, and we pretended it was a normal day and Sonic wasn't sitting on the floor shivering like he was stuck in a snowbank. Sonic and I always found something to talk about, which thankfully meant no awkward silences. After I took off the dressings he wouldn't let me help him get into the bath. He was moving slowly, but surely, and he winced as he lowered himself in as I tried not to notice how badly his legs were shaking. It occurred to me that maybe it was too hot for him, now that he was so thin, but he didn't mention it and only leaned back. I sat on the edge and put my feet in. He went for them right away and I yanked them out of reach, accidentally splashing water in his eye.

"Yow," he said. He looked funny, blinking and looking at the hands he couldn't use to dry his face, and I was giggling as I gave him a towel and tried to apologize. You can't really say you're sorry when you're laughing.

"Hey man, it was my own fault," he said, then added, "But it won't stop me from trying again!"

"Good," I said. The water seemed to have revived him a little, or maybe it was the change of scenery. Okay, bedroom to bathroom wasn't that much of a change, but it was all he could get right now.

"Hey Sonic," I said, "tell me a story, since you're just sitting there doing nothing."

"Damn, I thought I could get away with it," he said. "'bout what, big guy?"

"Tell me how you got your shoes." 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

When I was a kid I wanted to be like Tails.

I know it seems nuts, but you didn't live with him. And at times I still wish that.

Like right now.

God this must be hard on him.

I feel like I'm a million years old when he helps me walk along the hall. It feels like a million miles. I'm exhausted when I sit on the floor and wait for the bath water to run. Yeah, I'm afraid of water, but in the bath I'm all right. As long as it's not cold. Cold water I can't stand. I had to have a cold bath once, for a bad fever, and it took everything I had not to go nuts completely. I almost lost it like eighty times, and I was in there for ten minutes. Even when I was a kid I was stubborn.

When he shuts the water off he goes to help me in but I don't let him. I need to feel like I'm in control of something.

He sticks his feet in and I have to go for them. I love tickling his feet, he always goes nuts. And he does, getting water in my eye. I don't give a shit though, at least I made him laugh. He looks pretty thin. I should ask him if he's eating. I don't think he is.

He asks me to tell him a story, then jumps up and says he has to go do something. Okay then.

Don't think for one second I don't know how much he's putting into this. How he's handling it is beyond me. I knew he had a lot of inner strength, but I didn't know if he knew where to find it. I know we're being strong for each other's sake, working together like always and being twice as good as we are alone. But he has no idea how close I am to falling apart. Every day I get closer to losing it and just giving in to the creeping blackness I can feel in the back of my head. But no matter how far it gets, no matter how much I want to, I have to stay back. I have to stand strong for him.

Like I said, I always wanted to be like Tails.

Don't laugh.

Ever since he was born, he has always been everything to me, no matter what. He never lets me down, never gives less than everything. He says he does it 'cause I do and he wants to make me proud of him, but I'll always, always be proud of him, and you don't learn those things. That comes from inside of you.

I sure didn't get it from my family.

Tails reminds me a lot of myself as a kid, only a lot more timid. He's afraid to put himself out there. I hope this has nothing to do with my long shadow because he has a lot more to give than I do.

I realized this a while back, when he was a little over one, just a baby really, and his mom had given me one of those colour-by-number jobbies so I didn't have to go to school. It was one of those math ones. It comes easy to me, it always has, but when I was seven all I wanted to do was play outside and I could never concentrate. She didn't let me out of it this time, though, and she sent me upstairs. I was mad but not mad enough to not do it, since I figured it wouldn't take too long. But when I picked it up off the table all of the spaces were carefully coloured in, a little scribbly but good, and I got really mad. When I realized that he had to have actually done the math I ground my teeth. I knew Tails was smarter than I was, but did he really have to show off by doing my work for me? It was a picture of a pizza, which Tails had never seen before, since we had no TV and didn't get mail, and Tails had not been to town yet. So I knew he had no idea what a pizza looked like.

But to colour it he would have had to be able to read as well. I hated reading with a passion and always managed to get out of it. The letters made no sense to me and I couldn't understand why they moved all the time. So now I was jealous band/b mad. How come he could read and I couldn't? And how dare he do my sheet? Was he trying to make me look bad? I stormed over to the bed we shared and yelled, even though I had been told not to wake him up, "TAILS!"

He woke up and looked at me with half-closed eyes. It took him a second to recognize me, but when he did he rolled out of bed and wrapped his arms around my legs in one of his massive little hugs and shouted happily, "SONIC!"

For a minute I stood there, feeling amazing and special and stupidly happy because I was the centre of his whole world, and I knew he loved me more than anything in the world. It's hard to describe how I feel about Tails, but we understand each other. I was about to pick him up to hug him back like always when the paper crinkled in my hand and my anger surged again.

"Why did you do this?" I asked.

He looked at the paper and recognized it happily, then said, "I help, Sonic! Is it good?"

"No! It's bad! You did it all wrong!"

"Uh-oh," said Tails. "Wrong, Sonic?"

I no longer knew what I was talking about because I was mad and I told him he was wrong.

He stuck his finger in his mouth and backed away from me. Then he burst into tears.

I couldn't stand it when he cried.

I hated it.

I forgot my anger and picked him up. "Don't cry," I said.

"I wrong," he sobbed, "an' Sonic mad now!"

"No I'm not," I said, ashamed for waking him up, yelling at him, then making him cry. "You're good, Tails, I'm not mad."

"But I did wrong, Sonic!"

"No, you did it right. Sonic is wrong."

"No!" he insisted, firmly convinced I was never wrong.

I sat down and asked him to show me his colours. He rhymed them off, pointing to each one in turn, then looked at me expectantly.

"That's-that's great, Tails," I said, a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew it was stupid to be jealous of a baby who didn't know he was too young to do what he had just done, but I was, and it made me feel dirty. "Um...how come you can do the numbers, big guy?"

"From you!" said Tails, smiling happily. He started to clap his hands and said, "Two time two is four an' three time two is six an' four time two is eight!"

That was how I had learned my times tables.

He had been sitting there at the time, but I hadn't known he'd been paying attention, let alone understood what I was doing.

I had taught him something.

For the first time I felt proud of myself, like I had done something that mattered for once, and I hugged him and told him what a great job he had done. He laughed his happy baby laugh and bounced up and down in my lap. "Yay!" he shouted and then I took him downstairs to show Rosemary what he had done.

"Look what Tails did, Rosemary," I said, showing her the paper. She took it from me and looked at her baby. "That's really nice, Miles," she said, but she didn't seem to mean it. "I can't believe how big you're getting."

She looked like she really didn't believe it, as if Tails doing this was a bad thing. Later I realized that Tails was scaring her, since he was learning so fast, and I supposed that if I had a kid who didn't grow like other kids maybe it would freak me out.

She told me I could go outside and I shook my head. "No. I didn't do it. Tails did."

"Well, that means Miles can go, but someone needs to watch him," said Rosemary.

"Then you do it," I said stubbornly, although I always got very jealous when he spent time with her. I wanted him to spend all his time with me. "I didn't do what I was told so I can't go out."

She smiled at me and laid a hand on my head. She wanted to hug me but knew I didn't like being touched, except by Tails, because you don't tell a baby he can't give you a hug.

"I'm proud of you, sweetie," she said. "That's a very grown-up thing to say."

She was proud of me?

First I was proud of myself and now she was proud of me. I was having quite the day.

She gave me another sheet to do and I went upstairs with it, trying to keep it away from Tails. He kept grabbing at it and laughing, like it was a game. I sat him down on the bedroom floor and went to work on the math.

"I help!" said Tails, crawling over and trying to take my pencil. I guess he thought he could colour with it.

"No, you did one already. Go over there," I told him, pushing him away. He came back and tried to take my pencil again, so I turned away from him and told him to get lost.

I rarely told him to go away so he sat there and thought that one over. Then he crawled over and sat beside me and said, "I help Sonic!"

I told him to be quiet and bent over the paper, chewing on the end of my pencil. I chew on pencils like they're made of chocolate.

It was a picture of a starfish with sunglasses playing the guitar, but I usually guessed the colours on these things and I had no idea what to guess. If it were me the guitar would have been red, but it was such a silly picture it was probably orange or something.

I managed to figure out what number red was, since I knew that red was the short colour and besides, a three letter word wasn't that hard to read. Well, sometimes it was, depending on how I was feeling that day. I stared at the first colour and for a minute it started with a b, but then it turned into a p and then a b again and then I mixed it and the word under it together, and I threw my pencil at the wall in frustration. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" I yelled at Tails, who was sitting there sucking his thumb, which only made me more angry. "How come you can read and I can't? I hate you Tails!"

He took his thumb out of his mouth and looked so sad I felt guilty. I didn't mean what I'd said, he was just the poor victim of my frustration. He crawled over to the wall (which had a lot of pencil marks on it) and picked up my pencil, then brought it over and offered it to me. I had the strange feeling he was sad for me, and not because I'd yelled at him. "Tails help?" he asked.

I took the pencil and sat him in my lap. "Yes, Tails can help," I said, trying to figure out how. Then I had an idea.

"Hey big guy," I said, pointing at the first word, "do you know what colour this is?"

"Yeah!" he squealed.

"Can you tell me something that's this colour?" I asked.

He made a thinking face. I knew that he knew the words, but didn't know how to say them.

I tried my best to be patient, but I was terrible at it and I started to wiggle my leg. He put his hand out and pushed on my knee. "Ssh," he said sternly.

I sat still and started chewing on my pencil instead.

After a while he said, "Look," and pointed at his eye.

"Blue?" I guessed.

"No," he said. "Look."

"White?"

He repeated himself and pointed at his eye again.

"Pink?"

He sat and waited patiently.

Then I realized he was talking about the inside part of his eye. "Black!" I said, and he jumped up and down in my lap and clapped his little hands. "Yes yes yes!" he said, and I laughed and put a black crayon line over those horrible letters. Then I asked him the next one.

"That's easy!" he cried. "You!"

"Oh, so it must be purple, right?" I said.

He started to laugh really hard, saying, "Sonic not purple!"

"I know," I said, tickling his tiny little feet with my finger. The size of his feet were a wonder to me, since even at seven I knew that my feet were not small, and at the time his were no bigger than the palm of my hand.

"I was just bein' silly, big guy," I said, drawing a line over that word too, and he started to wiggle in excitement, throwing his arms around me.

We finished the rest of the words and I figured it was okay if he helped with the colouring, so we did that together. Tails always did everything with his left hand because I did, but I knew that he could use them both because he used his right when he didn't know I was there and he wasn't paying attention. I thought he was really lucky to be both-handed, as he called it.

We brought the picture to Rosemary and she smiled and taped it to the wall with Scotch tape in all four corners.

"You boys did a wonderful job," she said, and this time she meant it. "You can go outside and play now, sweetheart."

I knew that I couldn't, though. Tails had gone quiet in my arms and I remembered that I had woken him up. "I gotta wait for Tails," I said, and I went back upstairs. I was tired anyways so I just went to bed with him.

I pulled up the blanket, careful not to pull it over his head, and I realized that I had been really mean to Tails. He loved me for no reason and he had only wanted to show it by helping me. I had yelled at him and told him to get lost and that I hated him. That gave me a sick feeling inside.

"Tails?" I said.

"Sonic?" he said sleepily, turning his head to look up at me with his blue eyes, with an innocence and trust I wished I was still able to feel but that had been stolen from me.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I said softly. "I was mean and that's not nice. I didn't mean it, I was just mad."

He just nodded and said, "I know."

I almost cried. I felt an intense hatred for myself for what I had done. I felt so dirty I wanted to run downstaris and give him to Rosemary so I could suffer my shame alone.

He just kept looking at me.

"I love you, Tails," I said, and if I had blinked the tears would have fallen, but I would not, could not let him see me cry.

He only smiled and closed his eyes, and hugged me with his little arms.

I learned a lot about Tails that day. I grew out of my jealousy eventually to admire his quiet strength, his unshakeable loyalty, his incredible patience and his deep understanding of me. Sometimes I felt he knew me better than I ever would. That was the first time I yelled at him, but it wasn't the last, and all the times I lost my temper and took it out on him he would just sit quietly and let me vent, never taking it to heart, just being there for me and never letting me be alone. Only now I did feel alone, because I felt like I was somewhere he couldn't come, and I knew I was suffering because of it. But as well as he knew me, how could he understand? He didn't have to do what I did. The world didn't rest on his shoulders all that often, now did it? I was being called on to perform above and beyond again and again and again, and the demands never stopped. I was almost afraid of each day, because I didn't know if I would have to go and save the day no matter how much I didn't want to. Besides, if Eggman didn't kill me, I would. My body was falling apart and I knew it. Why didn't I tell Tails about it? You try telling your best friend and your little brother that you're falling to pieces in every way possible and there's nothing anyone can do about it. You tell him that you feel like your very existence is being pressed on by some evil force that you can't control. Because I've tried. It's the hardest thing I ever had to do.

That's why I didn't do it. 


	11. Chapter 11

This chapter looks really long, and maybe it is, but it's spaced out a lot at the end. This is my favourite chapter :)

Chapter Eleven

He came back and stuck his feet in the bath again, and waited for me to tell the story. I thought about grabbing his feet again, but I didn't really feel energetic enough. I had been saving the story in question because it involved his dad, and I felt it was really important for Tails to remember him. I didn't know him for very long, or very well for that matter, but I felt like he'd had an impact on me. So when he asked for a story I usually told him about something we'd done that he didn't remember, or if I was feeling imaginative I made one up (didn't usually, but he loved it when I did).

I didn't want to tell it, because I didn't want to make him sad(der), but I guess if he didn't need to hear it he wouldn'tve asked.

I looked at the faucet, thinking of how to start, fully aware for a moment of how frail I really was, even more than Tails knew. I tried not to look at myself, instead trying to remember how feeling strong and powerful had felt like, when I could circle the planet in minutes and I never had to btry/b to do anything. Now I had to try just to breathe sometimes, for fuck's sakes. I couldn't think about that though. I had a story to tell.

"Your dad gave them to me, you know," I said. He shook his head.

"He came down one time when you were a couple months old 'cause your mom told him how fast you were learning stuff. He was kind of mad when he got here 'cause he was missing all the neat baby stuff moms and dads look forward to. The stuff that only happens once, ever, and it sucks to miss it."

"Did you see a lot of it?" Tails interrupted.

"I saw all of it," I said. "Now shut up. I don't want to get into those, I need to save them for later. So anyways, I got why he was upset. I didn't spend a lot of time with you when he was here, because of course he wanted to, and believe me I was fucking jealous. Whenever you were sleeping or whatever, or when your dad was here, I did a lot of running. And when your dad was here, that meant that was all I did. The only food I ever had was breakfast, 'cause I would come home at night so tired I would pass out after sitting down. An' if I had something I had to do, I had to do it before I left, otherwise it wouldn't get done, like I had to shower and stuff.

"Your dad managed to stay for about three weeks or so, the longest ever, and I was running so much I was getting blisters. I didn't know what was up with my feet but I was stubborn and I pretended it didn't hurt. During the second week my feet started bleeding and your dad asked me what happened to them. Well, I didn't know and said that maybe I was cutting them from running barefoot."

""No, those aren't cuts, son," said Amadeus. "Those are blisters."

"I didn't know what he was talking about and he asked me if I was fast.

""Of course I'm fast," I said. "I can run from here to the zone boundary in three minutes."

""You know that's quite the distance from here," said your dad.

""Not to me!" I said, very proud now that someone else had told me it was a great accomplishment. He started looking at me and I started to feel creeped out 'cause I was starting to imagine what was behind the eye patch, like maybe a diseased hole or an evil cat's eye or something gross like that.

"Finally, he asked if I ran often.

""Ev'ry day," I said. "When Tails is sleepin' I go."

""And you like it?"

""I love it!" I shouted. "The only thing better'n runnin' is playin' with Tails. Though sleepin' is good too."

"He smiled, which he didn't do very often, and said he would give me something just as soon as he could get it. He got up to go somewhere, I don't know where, then stopped and asked me what my favourite colour was."

""Red, of course," I said as if it were a silly question. "'Cause it looks fast."

"He actually laughed at this and said he would keep it in mind. I was surprised that I had made him laugh. I had never heard him do that before.

"The day before he left, he came upstairs while I was sitting with you in my lap and we were looking at one of those books with the flaps in it. He kneeled down in front of us and gave me a box. "This is for you, Sonic," he said. "I think you'll put them to good use."

"So I opened the box, you tryin' to move your head enough to see what it was, and I saw the most amazing shoes I ever saw in my life. I don't think I need to tell you what they looked like. I took them out of the box and put them on, and they were so perfect I was sure they were really for someone else.

""They're really for me?" I asked.

""Yes," said Amadeus. "You'll be able to run as fast as you want to. But will you do one thing for me, son?"

"I couldn't imagine what I could possibly do for him, since I knew your dad was a very important guy somewhere or another and he was a general or something, but I asked what he wanted."

""Just don't leave Miles too far behind you," he said. "It's good for him to have a big brother to show him things." He looked really sad but at the time I didn't really notice.

""No probs!" I said. "I ain't never gonna leave him behind!"

A drop of water fell from the faucet and distracted me from telling the story. I suddenly realized how cold the water was. Was I deeper beneath it than before? I didn't want to panic, not in the damn bathtub, so I tried to get out, but I wasn't strong enough and I couldn't, and then I knew I really was getting deeper and I had to keep trying to get out but I couldn't because it wasn't me, it was someone else, but if it was someone else then why was it me who was cold and wet and shivering and scared and then I couldn't move at all because there was so much pain in my chest I couldn't even breathe and oh God I really was gonna drown in the goddamned bathtub like a fucking retarded two-year old and it was so hard to think because the pain somehow got worse and worse and

I opened my eyes to see Tails's back, and I coughed a little. I guess I blacked out. I kinda feel like an idiot. I kinda feel like I did go under, even though my head's not wet. He had wrapped me in a towel and held me to his body, and I drew strength from his warm fur and his steadiness, and I slowly moved back off his shoulder.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, even though it was hard to breathe and the pain was still really bad. It was so bad I wanted to just wrap my arms around my knees and hide until it went away.

But of course it never did.

"Let's get you into bed," Tails suggested. "You're shivering."

I was pretty cold already, but that was only part of it. When I saw how much of my fur had come off in the last little while I had to hide my sudden sadness. When you started shedding for no reason you were in trouble.

The withdrawl was getting really bad. Already I could feel the cold sweat pricking up on my skin and the tremors that ran up and down my body that I couldn't stop by tightening the bath towel. I wasn't paying attention to what was going on until he helped me sit on the bed, leaning my back against the wall and left, saying he needed more bandages.

As I sat there wrapped in the towel, waiting for him, I realized he had washed the sheets, but underneath the scent of fresh laundry I could smell something else. I couldn't figure it out.

Tails came back and started to clean my scrapes, although they looked a lot worse than a scrape would be. I didn't understand. They looked as if I had fallen yesterday, which I knew I hadn't. He was using a cloth that stung and actually really hurt. I bit my tongue, wanting to tell him to stop, but if he was doing it he had a reason.

Then I realized that the strange smell had to do with me.

My life had frozen, been put on hold, and for whatever reason my body wasn't healing. I used to heal really fast.

But I wasn't, not even a little, and I was almost smelling my body die.

The thought of it made me shudder, and Tails looked up. "Sorry," I said, hoping he would think I was cold (I felt warmer, actually). I really didn't like the idea of me...well...rotting away, while the rest of me sat there and fed it. My knee was really annoying though. It was all right sometimes, but sometimes it would start throbbing and wake me up, and believe me that was a sucky way to wake up. Sometimes it was so sensitive touching it to the mattress would hurt, and I would have to keep it up in the air. Not only did that make it even harder to sleep, but when I did that my leg would twitch every once in a while, and that tiny movement made my knee hurt anyways. Tails was wrapping it together with a cold thing or whatever it was, but it never helped the swelling, and rarely took the pain away.

All the while I was trying to ignore the real problem, the one that pounded too hard in my chest and demanded the adrenaline that my body wanted so badly. But if Tails said I couldn't handle it I wasn't going to risk it. No way was I gonna tell him how close I felt I was to a heart attack, since now I knew I'd had one.

And I felt fucking close to having one right then. God my chest hurt. Damn that drop of water. For some reason me having a heart attack over a drop of water made me laugh, and Tails looked at me a bit strangely and finished whatever he was doing. He helped me lie down, but when he went to cover me with the blanket I said no.

"But you're freezing!" he said.

No I'm not, big guy, I'm outside, and it's summer, and I can look at the sun and it doesn't hurt my eyes. It hurts my chest instead and the longer I look at it the more it hurts, so I have to stop even though I feel really powerful, being able to look at the sun like that.

/Trouble keeps you running faster, I will never give up the fight\\

There's a butterfly inside me.

That's why I'm sick. It's scared.

It's fluttering.

How did it get in there?

/This is my escape, gotta follow my rainbow\\

I didn't think it would feel this good.

/Running to the point of no return, got no regrets inside of me\\

I thought I'd hate it.

/Spinning through a world in motion, there's no turning back\\

Of course it does.

I feel so strong now, passing through night and day in an instant, feeling all of the weather in the world at once. Bet no one else has done that. Bet no one else can. Why am I so close to the sun though?

/But how will I know when to reach for the stars?\\

The world doesn't revolve. I turn it. The world is my hamster ball, and I'm the hamster.

Is there a such thing as a hedgehog ball?

/Drop that smile 'cause I'll keep on running\\

I feel fine. Really.

I don't want to be in the ball though. I want to be on the outside. It's no fun running in place.

/Not giving up, I will meet you eye to eye\\

What?

What is that?

There's a noise in my ear.

/I will never give up the fight, excalibar, it's not that far\\

I think there's an engine roaring in my head.

Why does it hurt so much?

/Hanging on the edge of tomorrow, I will never give up the fight\\

I don't want to make the planet spin anymore. The sun is burning me. I'm on fire. I can't breathe, it's too hot.

/Find the power deep inside 'cause the countdown has started and he's ready to blow\\

What's going on?

/Untouched, uncrushed, keep runnin' 'til the end\\

There's a dark cloud and I'm running, and I have the Chaos Emeralds, but I can't transform, it keeps turning off and I keep turning it on, I'm going too fast I'm not paying attention I'm going to crash.

/What I say and what I think, now you're facedown on the floor\\

What's wrong with me? Why am I not fast enough? Why are the Emeralds betraying me?

/Stay strong no matter how, no one's getting left behind\\

I'm running inside the darkness.

/What lies ahead, only endless possibilities\\

All around me is the black, with me running in a column of light that comes through the top of it.

The butterfly is hurting me.

/Take off at the speed of sound, 'cause if you try, you can do anything\\

I can't run anymore.

/I'm the knight of the wind, let me show you what I'm made of\\

I have to.

/Don't make me spell it out, you bow your head to me\\

Why isn't Tails here? He knows about butterflies.

/Will to try, don't stand down, break through\\

I'm still burning. There's an engine in my head and a butterfly in my chest.

/Gotta keep your feet right on the ground, I'm gonna hit you with Sonic speed\\

The column is getting smaller and moving faster, and I can't keep up anymore, and I think I

/Arrowed hearts catch fire now, I'll make it through\\

I need to

/Don't you know we really have to go, and today it's gonna be a brighter day\\

Slow down

/Got ourselves a situation, but I run still unfazed\\

Slow

/Just let the speed mend it, I'm not looking back\\

Slow down

/Follow me, set me free, I've gotta fly higher\\

Have to

/I just go about dreaming, I run into the heat of day\\

The butterfly

/Gotta keep going, just take my hand\\

I can't

/Better fear me better run away, there are things that only I can do\\

It hurts

/What would it feel like to be speed of light, I gotta fly higher\\

It won't

/We've all gotta start from somewhere, I will believe in myself\\

It hurts

/I wanna be strong, you came to set me free\\

It

/Floating as a cream in a bliss where you no longer feel time, gotta get a hold on my life\\

I

/I'm trying so hard to be strong\\ 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

I wake up and I wish I hadn't. Everything is hurting. My head. My stomach. My chest hurts the most. My heart feels like it's trying, if that makes any sense.

"Sonic?"

"Tails? What did you do? I know you did something."

"I couldn't do anything, Sonic. I was useless. You found the strength to go on, I guess."

"Everything hurts," I say, because I know he needs to know. He nods and I think he smiles ruefully.

"Well, suck it up," he says. "And stop complaining."

It's exactly what I need to hear.

"Well, I did do one thing," he says.

"Oh really? You tell me I did it all by myself and then go, Oh wait? No you didn't?"

He laughs and says, "Kind of. I gave you another shot of adrenaline."

"It took you long enough," I say. "Why did you decide to try it?"

He doesn't answer. He's close to tears and has to gather himself.

"I didn't know what to do. I knew I had to give you more adrenaline over time, but that was something I didn't have. So when you started getting delirious I decided I had to go for it and hope that you made it."

"What happened?"

"You had a heart attack, of course," he says. "I think it was long, but I don't really know. The whole time you were...what's a nice way to put it..."

"Screaming like a girl?" I suggest.

"No, your voice isn't high enough to do that," he says, as if it were a serious comment, "but you were yelling and saying nonsense, and then you curled up and started crying."

He looks at me. He looks so serious.

"That was when your heart stopped."

That was scary. A part of me never thought about had stopped working. Wow, I even managed to take myself for granted.

"I was scared," Tails admits. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't try CPR, you were stuck curled up and I couldn't move you. So I thought you were dead and...well...I kind of lost it."

"So how did I...uh...restart?"

"It was the adrenaline," says Tails. "I think. I think what happened is that it was enough, but too much for your body to handle after such a long time, and once it settled down your body revived itself. Like when the DVD player is on and the power goes out. When the power comes back on it restarts."

"So my heart is the DVD player? And the adrenaline is the power?"

"Exactly!" he beams.

"I don't think that's what happened," I say.

"But it's the only logical explanation."

"No," I say. "There's another one.

"Did you cry, Tails?"

"Well...yeah...I thought you were dead, why wouldn't I?"

"I think I just couldn't leave you alone after all you've done for me," I say, and I know I never say these sorts of things but it's what I think went down.

"Oh Sonic," says Tails, and he's starting to cry now, "if you gotta die then go ahead, don't just press on for me..."

"I already told you I don't wanna die, silly," I say. "now come here and don't worry about hurting me. I can take it, I'm not a tulip."

He almost laughs and helps me sit up so we can do this right and then gives me a hug and it's tight and strong and desperate. It actually hurts a lot but I don't care. It might hurt but at least I'm still around to feel it. I'm trying to hug him back the same way, the poor kid, but I have no idea how strong my arms are and I could just be patting his back for all I know. He needs this so bad, he's crying his eyes out. I've gotta get better so he can go back to being a kid. Or whatever his version of being a kid is. I never met another twelve year old that enjoyed vector calculus.

After a while he gets off of me, wiping his face dry.

I don't say this to him often. So many people say it now, and it's just words to them, when it used to actually mean something. It feels to me like they don't say what they used to anymore, and there should be new words made up that you can only use in situations like these. But as shitty and meaningless as they have become, they're all I've got, and I'll use 'em as they should be used.

"Thank you so much for all of your hard work," I tell him, trying to be sincere (I ain't good at that sometimes, I feel corny when I do it), and he starts to shake his head, but then I look him in the eye and tell him that I love him.

He starts crying again, knowing how I feel about the words, and luckily he's not sitting too far away from me so I can reach over and pull him on to me. I just hold him and rub between his ears, which he likes, and let him maybe (hopefully) cry out some of the bad stuff inside.

"I love you too, Sonic," he says and hugs me back just as tight as before. Suddenly I'm tired, so exhausted I can't think, and my arms fall off him and onto the bed. He lays me back down and makes everything comfy for me, and even though I want to thank him the words don't leave my brain and I fall asleep. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I think he's going to be okay.

He wants to keep trying, and I think he'll be okay. I'm really impressed with him right now. He's being so strong and trying so hard.

There's still a lot to deal with, though. This adrenaline won't last forever, and I still have to figure out why he was coughing up blood the other day. I  
>think he might have an ulcer, but I don't know a lot about them. It makes sense to me though. His metabolism would have needed the stronger acid, and now<br>that he wasn't eating it was eating through his stomach lining. He still had a bad fever too, but he's not shaking anymore, at least.

I can figure out what was caused by withdrawl and what has to do with other things if I hurry. His heart rate is better now, but I think it's skipping every  
>now and then. That might be from the adrenaline. I hope it's from the adrenaline.<p>

But for now I do nothing, and just watch him sleep. I may have a lot of work left to do, but he's alive. He didn't die. Even when his heart stopped he  
>didn't give up.<p>

I'm so proud of him.

For some reason he wants to play chess all the time. I think it's to distract himself from the pain he's going through, and I know it's bad. He's improving  
>at the game, though. That's his need to be the best coming through, I guess. Or maybe it's just that I stopped paying as much attention as I used to. I<br>haven't been sleeping lately, a few hours per night maybe, I don't know why. Mostly I just lie there and listen to his deep breaths and sometimes his  
>heartbeat. It's still skipping a little, but not as much.<p>

"Oops," said Sonic, looking at the board, "that's not right. Hold on a sec."

"Well, let me see," I said, remembering what I was supposed to be doing, but Sonic said, "No! I want to do it myself!"

His hand was still holding the piece and he was moving it, but I had already seen where it had been, and I put a hand on his wrist. He looked up at me,  
>knowing he'd been caught.<p>

He had beaten me.

He knew he was getting better, but we both knew that he would never be as good as I was. Somehow he had innocently been trying his best and I had stopped  
>thinking about our moves at all. I was so tired now that I kind of checked out when it was his turn.<p>

"Leave it. You won," I said. "Good job."

"You weren't trying," he said. "It wasn't fair."

"No game we've ever had has been fair," I said.

"Well, you weren't really playing," said Sonic. "So it doesn't count."

"Why are we arguing about it? You won. You beat me. Why aren't you happy?"

"I don't want to beat you," he said quietly.

"Why not? Why do you play if you don't want to win?"

"I play so I can learn something," said Sonic. "If I play against you, I'll always learn something, because you're the best. But don't think I haven't  
>noticed that this is getting easier. I am getting better, but I'm not bthatb good." He looked at me seriously.

"You aren't sleeping."

It wasn't a question.

"You aren't eating."

It wasn't a question either.

"I know what you're gonna say, about taking care of me, and I appreciate it. I know you're working your ass off here. But did you ever think of what would  
>happen if you got sick, Tails? Who would take care of you? It's not like I wouldn't try. I would. But I wouldn't know what was wrong or how to fix it.<br>And maybe I wouldn't be able to."

"No one would be taking care of you," I realized, and he started yelling at me.

"Shut up about me for one minute! Tails, I'm not that important, dammit! The world will revolve without me! I'm talking about you! Do you really wanna  
>end up like this, is that what you want? 'Cause I ain't goin' anywhere, and this is where you're headed."<p>

I was sitting there in shock, not knowing what to say. I was going to cry.

"You don't know what to do now, eh?" asked Sonic. "You ain't thinkin' anymore."

Dumbly I just sat there.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna have a shower, to wake yourself up. Then you're gonna eat something, I don't care what. Prob'ly some vegetables  
>would be good though. Then you're gonna come back here and go to sleep. And if you don't go to sleep, well, I'm gonna ignore you until you do. An' I know<br>you don' like that."

"But what if something happens?"

"Then I'll yell at you," said Sonic. "You always listen when I yell. Now hurry up."

I did as I was told. In my heart I knew he would never make good on his threat, but if he was mad enough to threaten me I would listen. And after I  
>considered it, he was just showing me he was concerned. He was right. I had to take care of myself too.<p>

I made myself some spaghetti, because if I was going to eat I may as well do it right. It was good, not as good as Sonic's but good, and I was really  
>hungry. Now that I realized how dirty and hungry I was, I was glad Sonic yelled at me.<p>

Well, he wasn't going to have his own way completely! He hadn't eaten lately either.

I went back upstairs feeling a lot better, kind of like I had washed away some of the worry and sadness I had been feeling.

"I'm back!" I said. Sonic looked at me and smiled. "Much better," he told me. He pointed at the cup I was holding and asked what it was.

"You have to eat too," I started to say, but he shook his head and said, "Not right now. Thank you, but not right now. Later, I promise. You sleep first,  
>okay?"<p>

Well, he did promise...and I was tired...and I didn't want to be yelled at again...

"Okay," I said, and I ran downstairs and put the cup in the fridge. Then I went back, where Sonic was slowly moving the chessboard onto the bedside table.  
>I took my time with my shoes and gloves, not wanting to insult him by taking over what he was doing. It was painful to watch though, he had to move each<br>piece one by one. As I watched him through my eyelashes he lay back slowly, looking exhausted, wincing in pain once or twice. It made me so sad.

"Tails?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry for yelling."

"Don't worry about it. I listened, didn't I?"

He laughed tiredly and closed his eyes. "Make sure you sleep, okay?" he told me. "I'll do my best," I replied, and I rolled over and wrapped him in a hug.

"I guess if that works," he said grudgingly, but I knew he didn't mind. He never had.

When I woke up much later he was lying there, staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep?"

He shook his head once.

"What do you want me to do?"

He didn't say anything.

"Sonic?"

"I want...I want you to give me a hug," he said, and his voice was a whisper, choked with tears.

So I gave him a hug and he started to cry, almost like before but not as bad.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Everything," he said. "I'm not getting better, you're not taking care of yourself because of me, you spend all your time on me and none on yourself, you're  
>sad all the time..."<p>

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't mind taking care of you?" I asked. "Because I don't. Yeah, it can be a lot of work and pretty tough sometimes. But  
>it's worth it. You're worth it."<p>

"Thanks, Tails," he said. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd find a way," I suppose. "But while we're on the subject, you ready to eat now?"

"Kinda," he said.

"You can say no," I told him.

"No, I can't," he said, "because that means I didn't try."

So I brought him the soup and he tried to eat it, I know he did, but he could barely swallow. The nausea must have been terrible because he couldn't stop  
>gagging.<p>

He was coughing up blood again too.

When he was able to breathe again he was shaking all over and very pale. I had to go get him the medicine for his stomach. I would have to find someone to  
>watch him.<p>

Well, I only knew one person... 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Tails asked me to watch Sonic while he went into town. If he's doing that, Sonic must be really sick. Tails wouldn't leave Sonic if he didn't have to.

I'm scared he's going to die now.

When I get to their house Tails is waiting outside. He greets me warmly and asks how I'm doing.

"Is he okay?" I asked him.

"He's doing alright," Tails said, "I just have to get him some medicine is all."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"No."

And then he turns around and waves and smiles at me.

Well.

That's great.

Does he even bwant/b to see me?

He doesn't usually.

I go upstairs to his bedroom and when I see him my breath catches.

He looks so sick.

He looks so small.

"Sonic?"

He turns his head to look at me.

"Hey," he said, and even though he doesn't look the same that's the voice I remember. "How ya doin', Ames?"

"I'm okay," I said.

"I shoulda guessed Tails wouldn't leave me alone," he said.

As usual, he was being difficult. Sometimes he made me so mad...

"Well, fine. I'll leave."

"Don't," he said. "Come here."

"Why?"

"So I don't have to talk so loud."

"It's not like it's bothering anybody."

"Yeah, me," he said. "My throat hurts."

The fact that he had admitted he was sick made my anger vanish, and I went to sit with him.

He stopped looking at me. His eyes faced the ceiling. He looked so tired.

"Are you trying to sleep?"

"I never stop trying to sleep," said Sonic, "but you can talk if you want."

"Well, if you're trying to-"

"Fuck that, that's all I fucking do," he said, but he wasn't angry. "I want to do something. Hey Ames, you play chess?"

"Not very well," I said.

"Me neither. Let's do that," he said, and I took the board off the table and sat on the bed in front of him. I realized his arms were still bandaged and asked why.

"They ain't healin'," he said.

I had been kind of nervous to be alone with him, I didn't want to upset him or end up playing the crazy obssessed girl again. I was trying to lay off him about being his girlfriend, but it was really hard. I loved him and I knew it was love and nothing else. I wanted him so much, even now. It was a little scary to see him, but he was still my Sonic. Still strong and brave no matter what. And it was really nice to spend time with him where neither of us were running anywhere.

After a while he said, "Ames, you wanna do something with me?"

"Sure," I said.

"I need one a those spiral notebooks, a nice one, and some coloured pens, dark ones."

"Why would you want those?"

"I don't have anything to give Tails," he said. "It's his birthday and I know he forgot about it, and no I'm not giving him those as a present. I need them for the present."

"When he comes back," I said.

"Also, gimme that thing," he said, pointing at a syringe on the table.

"What is it?"

"Adrenaline. I'm addicted to it."

"I gave it to him and he shot himself with it. Then he lay back down.

"Now I'm trying to sleep," he said.

I laughed and moved the board. He smiled and closed his eyes. When Tails came back I started to leave, but without opening his eyes he said, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," I said.

"Come here," he said. Then he made me sit down beside him and he sat up slowly.

"This is going to be disgusting for you, but I have to do it," he said, and even as weak as he was he moved fast at that moment, his fingers in my hair all of a sudden, and before I was able to get over the tingle left by his touch he was pulling down my head.

Then he was kissing me, and it wasn't disgusting at all, it was amazing, better than anything I'd ever dreamed and he broke it off too fast.

"What could have possibly made that disgusting?" I asked.

"I haven't brushed my teeth in God knows when," he said. "I know it's nasty in there."

"Oh," I said. I guess Sonic doesn't realize just how much I care about him. Maybe he hadn't brushed his teeth in a while but it didn't matter to me. He kissed me. Finally. After all these years.

I had to leave, so I got up to go.

But I had to do it.

Maybe he wouldn't let me later.

Maybe he would change his mind.

So I turned around, and I took his face in my hands and I kissed him back, and it was long and sweet and neither of us wanted to pull away.

"You sure know how to kiss a guy," he said.

"I'll teach you a few things if you want," I said.

He laughed and gave me a shove. "Get the hell out of here," he said.

I started to leave and he called me back. "I didn't thank you," he said.

"Thank me later," I told him, and he knew exactly what I was talking about. He winked and closed his eyes.

"I'll think about it," he said.

I never saw him again. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

With the medicine, your stomach was able to clear up and you gained strength and energy as only you could. Within a few days you made me take you outside, even though winter was in full force and you were still fragile. But you're hard to say no to.

"Everything looks okay," you said. "Must a been one lousy poison."

"There was no poison," I said bitterly. "It was all a lie, to get you out in the open. All this has been a stupid waste of time. You've been suffering for no reason. There was no point. It was stupid."

"Well, I'm glad it happened," you said decisively. I looked at you in surprise.

"What do your mean, you're glad? You almost died! You were dead!"

"But I ain't," you told me. "An' now I appreciate you a lot more, an' I know ya better. I know this has been real hard on you, but you're pullin' through so well, and I'm really proud of you."

"What was I supposed to do, leave you there?"

"Everyone else did," you said quietly.

"Amy didn't," I said.

"I know," you said.

You were doing really well, but your fever came back, you were unable to get out of bed, and you started to vomit without warning. I know you really hated that I saw you and that you couldn't control it, but I knew it would pass eventually and did my best to calm you down. It was the worst at night, where you would wake up gagging whether you had eaten or not, sometimes so many times I wondered how you got through the night at all. I was pretty sure you were reacting to the medicine for the ulcer, but you couldn't stop taking it until I was sure the ulcer was gone.

Your fever worried me. I knew it was caused by your knee, which was infected from being swollen for so long. I didn't want to put you on anything for it, because of your reaction to the other medicine, and I couldn't give you a cool bath, so all I could do was wipe your forehead with a cool cloth. You said it helped a lot. I did what I could for your knee and your amazing willpower did the rest. It slowly got better and soon after I decided your stomach was probably okay and took you off the medicine. The next day the vomiting stopped and you ate whatever I gave you. You were always hungry, which was good. It meant you were pretty much back to normal.

I woke up one morning and you were gone. I assumed the worst, of course, but decided to wait and see if you came back on your own. You did, sweaty and out of breath, but so happy I forgot my worry.

"Where'd you go?" I asked.

"Running!" you said. "And it was amazing! I feel like I just fought my way out of a straitjacket and escaped a madhouse or something!"

You were grinning like an idiot and I laughed. "I'm glad you're feeling better," I said.

"Tails, teach me how to swim," you said.

"That's easy," I said. "But I have to teach you how not to be afraid first."

"Well, that's the point," you said. "If I could swim I wouldn't be afraid."

So you would run every morning at five like you used to, coming back after a half hour or so. When I asked you why, you said, "I don't wanna put too much pressure on myself. I never go very far or very fast. Just enough to get me ready for the day."

I was glad you were thinking so far ahead.

After you got back you would eat and then sleep for a while, sometimes not getting up until noon. Then we would go to the indoor pool, because at this time no one would be there, and we didn't really want anyone to see your panic. We knew that no matter how hard you tried that you might.

We started in the wading pool, which only made you uncomfortable as opposed to afraid, since it was warm. I had you float and you were able to do it within minutes. It would be easy to teach you how to swim once you got over your fear. You got bored of floating in the wading pool every day and asked if you thought I was ready for the big pool.

"You're going to be floating in there too," I said, and you kicked the wall in mock anger. I always wondered why you never took your shoes off, even in the shower. Maybe that was for emergencies too. Whenever you did take them off I was always surprised to see that they were clean and healthy, with neatly clipped toenails. I kind of expected them not to be, since you wore the shoes for almost the entire day. I guess it was part of your need to be clean.

When we did go to the big pool you just stood there and stared at the water like it was going to come alive and drag you off the deck.

"Can I stand in there?" you asked.

"Why don't you get in and find out?" I said, trying to lighten the situation.

"Very funny," you said, looking as if you thought otherwise. "Can I?"

"I can stand in there," I answered.

You looked a little disappointed and took your gloves off, which you only did at the last minute so no one would see your hands, and sat down, sticking your feet in.

"It's cold," you said.

"It's colder outside," I told you.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"There's ice on the lake."

"Shut up," you said, starting to get angry. "Just shut the fuck up."

I knew you were trying to turn your fear into anger and waited for you. I wasn't going to force you to get in. You would have to do that yourself.

"I'm really scared," you said to me. "I can't do this."

"I won't let you drown."

"That was a bathtub. This is a swimming pool."

"Then stand behind the ladder."

"Damn it, Tails, you have an answer for everything!"

"Yep," I said.

You sat there, the water only up to your ankles. The water made your sneakers look unreal.

"Push me in," you said finally.

"No way," I said. "That would be the easiest way to drown you."

"No it won't. Just do it. Come on. You don't want to sit here all day, do you?"

"I won't do it," I said, and I pushed you as fast as I could. For a second you looked shocked that I actually did it, and then you were gone.

You stood up and threw your arms over the side, grabbing the deck for dear life. "You bastard!" you gasped. "You almost killed me!"

"That I doubt," I said.

You just stood there glued to the wall, and I could see that you were really afraid. You were shaking so I let you be. You pried yourself off the wall and stood there for a minute, still trembling.

"Help me a minute?" you asked.

I hopped in no problem and you gave me a dirty look, and I helped you get on your back so you could float. I couldn't take my hands away because you couldn't relax so you weren't really floating, but you were trying.

It took five days for you to be able to do it on your own, and after that you got in no problem. You were still scared but you were so stubborn you wouldn't give up.

"So now I do the swimming part?" you asked.

"Nope," I said. "Now you do the treading water part."

"The what?"

"I can't have you swim until you can tread water," I said. I had you treading water so much you could have done it in your sleep, which was the point. If you did panic and start to go under, I was hoping reflex would kick in and you would tread water instead. You could tread water all day if you wanted to. Your arms and legs were that strong.

You complained that you were bored but you knew there was a point, so it was never serious. It was just something you did.

"Today," I started, but I didn't get any farther because you interrupted, "Oh good! No more treading water!"

"Actually, a lot more," I said, "you're just gonna do it over there instead."

"How do I get to the deep end if I can't swim?"

"I'm not sure. If you're lucky they might let you use the ladder."

You did end up using the ladder, maybe more than even you thought you would. I knew you wouldn't drown if you would tread water like you did at the other end, but you were afraid because you couldn't touch the bottom and held onto the ladder like you were welded to it. It took you a week to get off the ladder. I'm not trying to make fun of you. I know you were really scared and thought you were going to drown.

Eventually you got off the ladder and tread water, but you were still very scared and sometimes you would start panicking and grab it, hanging onto it until the panic passed. I admired you a lot for what you were doing. You had a deep childhood fear of the water and you were trying so hard to conquer it. I didn't know if I could do that, especially considering your fear was so strong when I was young you told me you couldn't take baths because you didn't want to faint from the heat, because at four I didn't understand why you did everything with me except go into the water.

After another day or so you stopped grabbing the ladder and I had you tread water in the deep end for another week and a half. This time you didn't complain, and when I told you I would teach you to swim you asked to keep doing it for another day or two, just in case.

You were mostly okay in the water now, and as I'd thought you learned to swim very quickly. You had a perfect backstroke after about five minutes. You didn't like front crawl, not wanting to put your face in the water, but did as I said. As long as you took a breath at regular intervals you would be fine.

"Besides, you're safer than most people anyway, as long as you remember not to breathe in when you're under there," I said.

"Why?"

"You have a bigger lung capacity, from the running," I said.

"Huh," you said. "I guess that makes sense."

So I showed you sidestroke after that, but I didn't know breaststroke and wasn't strong enough to do it anyway.

"All right," you said, "I'll learn it and teach you."

Which you did.

It was hard. I couldn't do it. I had shown you how to swim but I wasn't good at it myself. Having a brother who won't take you in the water doesn't help your swimming techniques. I'm not blaming you. I just wouldn't have wanted to get in the water without you anyway.

When you saw how bad I was you stood there on the deck with one hand on your hip, the other on your chin, and said, "Well, that's gonna have to change, little buddy. If I can do it, so can you."

It made me mad at first. I didn't want to. It was you who was afraid. Not me. I could swim. It didn't matter how bad I was, I could still swim.

"Too bad," you said. "You have to swim with me from now on."

I couldn't. You could swim all day if you wanted. I got tired after three laps.

So you made me tread water.

The irony was not lost on me. But every day, even though you'd done this already, you stayed with me and did what you told me to do. After a couple of weeks you told me I was much better and I could stop if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. It was a lot of fun swimming with you. It came so easy to you and I wanted it to be like that for me. But that's how it's always been between us. You've always been faster and stronger, and to be like you I had to improve myself to keep up.

I still want to be like you, even after all these years.

I told you how to dive and of course you couldn't stop there, you had to learn how to do somersaults and backflips (which wasn't too hard because you do them on solid ground all the time). You said I didn't have to, you just wanted to show off, but once I learned how to do it properly it was a lot of fun.

Then I said there was one last thing you had to do. I took one of the rings from the basket and I dropped it in the pool. It sank to the bottom and told you to go get it.

"Dude, no way," you said. "I'll drown for sure! I won't know which way is up!"

"You'll rise naturally. The body is buoyant. You're a really good swimmer anyway. You won't drown."

You shook your head and refused to do it.

"Well, I'll have to go get it then," I said. You grabbed my arm. "Tails, no!" you said. "What if you don't come back? What if you don't float back up and you drown?"

"I won't. Don't worry."

Reluctantly you let go and I dove under.

It was dark under the water, and I didn't know if I should have asked you to do it. You would get scared down here for sure. I retrieved the ring and went back.

You stared at me like I had gone to space or something. I went to put the ring on the deck but you snatched it out of my hand and threw it in the pool. You were angry and jealous that you had refused to get it and I had gotten it instead. Then without warning you went down, the last I saw of you the tips of those sneakers. They must have been waterproof or something, because your feet were never wet.

I started to worry a little. You were gone a long time. I was sure you could hold your breath for at least five minutes, but it seemed you were pushing it.

Then you came back with the ring, not even breathing hard. "Couldn't find it," you said. "Damn it's dark down there."

I gave you a hug. "What?" you asked, probably a bit embarrassed about being hugged in public.

"I'm really proud of you, Sonic," I said. "You've come so far."

"Well, it's all 'cause of you. An' anyways, it's years too late. I always regretted not taking you into the water."

"You did?"

You looked at the water and said, "I...I hated saying no to you. Still do."

I gave you a hug and you hugged me back.

Every morning you went out to run and then you would swim after, so we ended up swimming together only once or twice a week. Once I couldn't sleep and went to watch you, and I always watched in wonder when I saw you do these things. Your whole body is made of well-tuned muscle, you made yourself into a precision instrument, and if you weren't so thin you would have been perfect. But you already had to have six thousand calories just to make it through two hours of exercise a day. To gain weight I don't want to know how many calories you would have needed. You ate all the time already. You hated it, hated doing it in front of me, but it only made me grateful that I had a normal metabolism. You seemed to have recovered just fine and was back to yourself, even going so far as to bother me when I was reading in the bath and splashing water in my eye. So of course I had to get up and chase you with my soggy book, and instead of cleaning up the mess we watched a movie. Only we didn't really watch it because we were having a popcorn fight, and when we ran out of popcorn you started throwing the pillows on the couch and we ended up using the couch cushions, and then we knocked over the TV by accident. It didn't break but I had to plug everything back in.

I was still sleeping in your room, but we had moved my bed in there because you said sleeping with me made the bed so hot you HAD to push me on the floor. Which was not so fun for me.

But the crying didn't stop.

You still cried after we had talked for so long I couldn't stay awake, and I kept sleeping through it. When I did wake up one night I felt really bad.

"Don't," you said one night, when I told you that. "It's not your fault. Just...just sleep, Tails. For me. 'Cause I can't."

If I woke up I would crawl in beside you until you fell asleep, or until I did. You didn't say that it helped, but you didn't tell me to stop. The days were a lot of fun though. It was like the old days, when we were always together, and I know you were really happy for the first time in a long time.

Then you got sick. 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

I don't know what happened. Maybe you got it from the pool. I guess you were still healing inside 'cause it hit you really hard.

The first morning you were sick you didn't get out of bed until very late, and when you did you just started to throw up. When you could breathe you wiped your mouth and said, "What the fuck."

I was staring at you, wondering if you had eaten wheat on a whim or something, like when you were a kid and got really upset and something similar to that happened, but we didn't keep any in the house and you never bought anything without bringing me something back.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I don't know," you said in confusion. "I feel really weird all of a sudden."

After you cleaned up and had a shower you came back and lay down.

"I feel worse now," you said. "I had a shower. I should feel better."

I told you to go back to sleep. You did, within ten minutes. You woke up a few hours later.

"Did I push it, Tails?" you asked. "Did I do too much too soon?"

"No," I said. "A couple of hours of exercise would have helped you, believe me. You just have the flu or something. Your immune system is probably still recovering, that's all."

You got out of bed and stood at the window for a minute. Then you turned around and went to go downstairs. You suddenly grabbed the doorway with one hand and covered your mouth with the other.

"Sonic?"

"Ssh," you said. Then you burped and made a face. "Sorry," you said.

"'s okay," I told you and went back to what I was doing. I wouldn't worry about it unless it got worse.

The next day you were fine, acting normal and doing stuff like show me how to make a pie crust (which I didn't know you knew how to do), but the next day it was worse than before. You almost threw up in your sleep, but I was afraid you would choke and I started yelling at the top of my lungs. You woke up coughing and covering your mouth, trying not to throw up on the floor again, but you weren't awake enough and couldn't stop it. You had a hard time breathing after that. When you had recovered you looked at your hand.

"That," you said, "was gross."

You saw me staring and asked what was wrong.

"You-you were vomiting in your sleep," I said.

"Oh my God," you said. "Thanks for waking me up!"

You did all the cleaning and went to have a shower, and as I changed the sheets for you I heard you coughing in the bathroom. I hoped you weren't throwing up again. You were still so thin from the heart attack.

When you came back you lay down on your side and curled up, holding your stomach tightly. I had never seen you do that before. I covered you with the blanket and saw that you were already deep in sleep. You slept all day and most of the night, deeply and without moving. I only knew you got up during the night because you went in the closet and you swore after a box fell on your head.

"Go back to sleep," you said. "I'm gonna sit outside for a while." You put your coat on and left.

That explained why you had been in the closet, but you never wore your coat. Ever. You liked the feeling of exhiliration you got from being cold. You came back a few hours later, leading me to wonder what you had been doing, hung up your coat, and lay down. You were so warm that when you walked by me I could feel the heat pouring off your body, but you pulled the blanket up to your chin. Your stomach groaned and you burped loudly, swearing and saying, "I'm sorry, that keeps happening and I don't know why."

"It's okay. We can pretend it's not happening," I said. You thanked me but kept apologizing out of habit. I guess your stomach really hurt because you curled up again. I could hear your stomach churning. You were sweating so much that I could smell it from where I was seeing, at your desk across the room, but you did not push the blanket away. After a while you would start coughing after you burped, and if possible you seemed to have pulled the blanket tighter. When you left the room I covered my ears.

You managed to sleep and I kept making blueprints, but now I was worried.

You got up several times during the night, and after the fourth time or so you asked, "Tails, when you're puking blood, that's bad right?"

"You should have told me before!" I yelled.

You flinched and turned away. "Sorry," you said in a small voice. "I was waiting for it to go away."

"If blood is coming out of you it doesn't matter if it goes away or not! That means something's wrong and you need to fix it!"

"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't want to-"

"It doesn't matter!" I shouted. "Did you not learn anything last time? Are you stupid?"

"Yes," you said, and started to cry.

I had made you cry.

I had made my big brother cry.

"Don't cry, Sonic," I said. "I'm sorry. You're not stupid."

"Yes I am," you sobbed. "I should have told you before! Now something's wrong and it could be too late!"

"How long has it been happening?"

"The whole time."

You must have been so scared.

I went to touch you and my hand was instantly damp. The blanket was soaking with sweat and so was the pillow and the sheet. I went to pull the blanket back but you wouldn't let me.

"I'm cold," you said.

"Sonic, you're sweating like crazy and your fever is insane. Take the blanket off."

"No," you said.

"If I give you mine will you take it off."

"If you really do it," you said.

I got my blanket, but when you reached for it I changed my mind. "Just get in my bed," I said.

"Why?"

"Because yours is soaking wet. Now get up."

You got up and lay down in my bed. I gave you the blanket and stripped your bed. Even the mattress was a little damp. I put the stuff in the laundry and brought you some hot chocolate. You said you were cold so maybe it would help, and you definitely needed fluids, judging from how much you had been sweating.

You drank it down as soon as it was cool enough to drink, and you burped and almost threw the mug at the wall. I grabbed it and put it on the desk.

"Easy," I said.

"I'm fucking tired of doing that! I'm tired of being sick!" you yelled. "What the fuck's wrong with me?"

"You might need the medicine for your stomach again," I said. "If I get a different one you might not throw up."

"Okay," you said. "Thanks man."

I went to sleep and when I woke up it was because of the unbearable heat coming off your body. I was soaking wet too. I was kind of grossed out but you couldn't help it. You were still asleep so I carefully took the blanket off you. I hoped you wouldn't notice so you could cool down a little.

When I came back you weren't so hot, and as I put the sheets back on the bed you groaned and sat up, one hand on your belly. "God I feel like shit," you said.

"Come here, I need to wash those," I said, and you sat down on your bed. "Sorry, Tails," you said. "Thanks a lot for helping me out."

"No problem," I said.

You didn't cover yourself with the blanket, and when I came back you asked if I would bring you some water. "I'm kind of dizzy," you said. I knew it was from the fever and went to get you some. After some debating with myself I brought you your water glass, which was very tall and I wasn't sure you wanted that much but I supposed you didn't have to drink all of it. But when I gave it too you you drank it all at once. You tried to stifle the burp but couldn't and thankfully didn't try to pitch the glass across the room. You were mad though.

"Do...do you want more?" I asked. I was kind of in awe. That was a tall glass and you had just about downed it in one swallow!

"If it ain't too much work," you said.

I brought you another one and you drank that down too. Then you took the glass into the bathroom and drank deeply from it again. I was amazed. "You'd probably win a chugging contest," I said.

You started laughing and put the glass down. "I dunno," you said. "Either I'm really thirsty or I'm gonna have one hell of a piss later."

So saying you drank a fourth glass and wiped your mouth. "I think I'm done," you said. "Now we wait for it to go right through me, huh?"

You didn't, instead drinking several more glasses throughout the day. I went and got you the medicine and you were a lot better afterward. You made us hamburgers, which you barbecued and put so many vegetables on that they all fell out and we had to eat them with a fork. Then you showed me how to make ice cream by hand and it was really good, probably because you made it. We really stuffed ourselves. I didn't really want to do anything since being so full made me feel lazy, but you decided we were putting up a tent in the living room and going camping. It wasn't a very big tent and you must have been uncomfortable, but you didn't say anything.

We used the camping stove in the tent, because you said that if we didn't roast marshmellows we weren't really camping, and besides if it wasn't dangerous it wasn't worth doing.

After we did that (we somehow managed to eat a whole bag of marshmellows) you told me a ghost story so scary I almost told you to stop, but you hadn't realized how scared I was and said you were sorry, even though I didn't mind as long as you didn't disappear on me. We put the stove away and lay back on our sleeping bags, and you told me another story, like an Indiana Jones story but better, with more action and funnier, and less romance. You should have written movies or novels or something, but you said that if you had to do it you wouldn't have been able to. Knowing that they were just for me made me feel really special.

"Hey, thanks for taking care of me, big guy," you said. "I got somethin' for ya, by the way."

You left and returned with a container and a notebook. I opened the container and inside were the best-smelling brownies I'd ever smelled. I loved brownies and had to have one right away, somehow forgetting how much food was already in my stomach. I gave one to you, the chocolate fiend, and we ate them pretty fast because we both wanted me to look at the notebook. They were the best brownies in the world and I knew I would enjoy them later. I opened the book and the first thing I noticed was that it had writing in it. I knew that you hated writing almost as much as you hated reading, and as I flipped through the book I could see that every page was covered with your painstaking scrawl.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A storybook," you said. "For when you want a story and I'm not around to tell you one."

I looked up at him, suddenly afraid. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No," you said. "But I realized that I'm not invincible. I know this ain't much, but I'm hopin' it'll help if you get lonely one day. But don't worry, Tails, I won't leave you unless I have to."

I started crying and you put me in your lap like I was little and gave me a hug, and I was so grateful that your arms were so strong and sure now that I cried harder.

"Happy birthday, Tails," you said. "I know it's late for a birthday present, but more than anybody you deserve it."

What you said that day made what happened next even worse, as if you had somehow known about it and were trying to say goodbye.

When I woke up the next morning you were sleeping on my arm, but you smelled of sweat and chlorine so I knew you had gone out that morning for your exercise, which was good. I waited until you woke up and you made us bacon and eggs and hashbrowns. You're the only one I know who makes a perfect fried egg every time.

We went outside because it was warmer out and the sun had melted most of the snow in one go, so of course you had to get rid of the rest by throwing it at me. We had a very brief snowball fight, and you tried to be fair, but you have a hard time slowing down.

Then Knuckles came running up to us, very out of breath. He put his hands on his knees and gasped for air.

"Whassup, Knux?" you asked.

"I need your help," said Knuckles, and we both knew that it was serious. "I've been doing my best, Sonic, I know that you were sick, but he outsmarted me."

"Eggman?" you asked, and Knuckles nodded and straightened. "I've been holding him off, but he distracted me by having two plans at once, and I tried to stop the wrong one. Now he had six Chaos Emeralds and I had to smash the Master Emerald. I don't know what to do."

You nodded and I could see you were thinking about what Eggman was up to. I reached for your arm.

"You can't go!" I said. "Your heart...and you were just sick, Sonic...you're not ready..."

"Don't worry, little buddy," you said, rubbing the top of my head briskly.

"But-"

"Do you know what all that cryin' was about?"

I shook my head.

"I was scared. Things like this happen, and suddenly the whole world needs me to save it. Sometimes other worlds. An' I was afraid because I felt so lonely and trapped, and it pressed down on me and I couldn't breathe. But thanks to you, and Amy, and now Knux here, I know that if I do fall, someone will help me up and someone will be standing behind me to continue what I started. And now I know that, I'm not afraid. Saving the world's not a burden. It's a privilege! I'm the hero for the whole world, Tails! How cool is that?"

I didn't understand.

You knew that and gave me a hug, and said to me, even though Knuckles was standing right there, "I love you, little bro," and hugged me tight. Then you and Knuckles started running back the way Knuckles had come, waving at me and laughing and shouting, "I'll be back in a Sonic second!"

You weren't. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Knuckles came three days later. He looked upset. "Tails, I-"

I didn't let him finish. "Why are you here and not Sonic?" I demanded.

"Sonic is here, " he said, looking uncomfortable. "But...God, I don't want to have to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"Sonic...Sonic didn't make it," said Knuckles. "He...Sonic's dead, Tails."

"No he's not!" I shouted, "he's not! He said he was coming back! He told me not to worry!"

"Well," said Knuckles, but there wasn't a lot he could say to that. I ran outside, sure that Knuckles was wrong, maybe you had something to do and you were just a bit behind, but when I got outside you were lying on the ground, eyes closed and a bruise on your face.

You didn't wake up when I called you.

You didn't wake up when I shook you.

You didn't wake up when I started crying.

That was when I knew you were dead.

It hit me so hard, that my big brother was gone forever, the person I loved most in the whole world. There would be no more stories, not more snuggling up to you in bed, no more silly things would happen at the spur of the moment, you would never teach me anything again. Now when I was sad and lonely no one would know what to say to make it better, no one would surprise me like you did every day, and now I was all alone in the world.

Thinking of all the things we still had to do like build you a car because you didn't have one, and when we had kids they would be best friends like we were, and even when we were old we would care about each other as much as we did now, I fell down on you and started screaming. I felt like someone had torn me apart, and I wish I had gone with you and died too. I couldn't stand touching your body so I went to run back in the house and Knuckles tried to hug me, and I know he meant well but it felt wrong, the muscles were in the wrong places and his chest was too hard and it wasn't Sonic, wasn't you, and I hit him and ran into the house. I couldn't see where I was going and I ran into the tent, and that made me remember that night and how happy we were, how happy you were after so long, and how you had conquered your fear of water as only you could, and the pain inside me was so bad all I could do was scream and scream and cry.

When I woke up I was lying on the couch and Amy was holding my hand. I wondered why she was crying and then I remembered that Knuckles had brought your body to our house. I wanted to be strong like you were so you would be proud of me, so I gave her a hug and didn't cry, even though I wanted to tell them both to go away so I could cry in peace. We sat there in silence for a while. Then Knuckles said, "Tails, we need to bury him. He's been dead for two days now."

"I can't," I said. "I can't."

"You have to," said Knuckles. "You'll regret it if you don't."

So I told him what you wanted, and we went outside and Knuckles made a little pyre for you and put you on it. He set it on fire and when you started burning I started crying hysterically and I went to pull you off because you were on fire, they were burning you alive, but Knuckles grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I had to watch my big brother burn, the hedgehog who had been larger than life and was always ready to smile and laugh and tease, I had to watch my whole world be reduced to a pile of ashes that the wind picked up and took from me too, so that I really would be left with nothing, and Knuckles almost couldn't hold me, I was fighting so hard.

By the time the fire had burned itself out I was collapsing in exhaustion. Everything hurt, my eyes, my head, my heart, and I felt someone pick me up and carry me inside, and then I fell asleep.

When I woke up Amy was sitting there, and I saw her crying and I had to remember that you were dead, and she held out her arms and I let her hug me, because you loved each other and that made it okay. She held me for a long time and I did feel a little better, but not much.

"Knuckles left those for you," she said, wiping her eyes.

They were your sneakers.

They were apparently indestructible. I wished they had burned. It seemed wrong, perverse even, that they hadn't gone with you even though you never took them off. I wanted to throw them outside but they were your property and I could never do that.

Amy said she was going to stay with me, at least for a little while, and I was grateful. She tried to take care of me and did a good job, only forgetting to say goodnight sometimes and a few other things I won't complain about. I tried to make her feel better but she's very emotional and if she realized what I was doing she would cry and hug me. For a long time I didn't really accept that you were dead. You were gone, and your sneakers were beside your bed without your feet in them, but I had always thought I would be there when you died. I thought it would be like in the movies, where the hero would be surrounded with those he loved most, and he would say goodbye to each of them, keeping his favourite for last. And everyone would be sad but would still feel okay. But you didn't walk in and ask what was wrong. You didn't tell me I should stop sitting on the porch all day and go use my brain, because for God's sake I had one for a reason. You didn't tell me I was special and I should go do something so the whole world would know about it. You just didn't.

Then I found the book you gave me.

At first I didn't recognize it. Then I opened it and read the inside cover:

'To Tails, for his thirteenth birthday. I know today's not your birthday, but I didn't forget. I think you'll like this anyways, no matter what today is.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE BRO!

From Sonic'

It was the book of stories.

I wanted to tear it up and burn it, and I started to, but I started crying and I couldn't see to do it. I realized I'd been about to destroy the last thing you'd given me, that you would ever give me, filled with letters you hated writing. I knew it truly was a labour of love, and I hugged it to me and cried.

You really were dead, and I accepted that slowly and painfully, and for weeks I kept the book under my pillow, as if to keep you near me, but I didn't read it. I kept making blueprints and plans for the car you would never drive, using pencils you would never again chew on, at a desk you would never sit on and block my light, in a room you would never paint red, in a house that seemed to have grown and left me tiny in it. You had filled the house all by yourself. Now it was empty.

The day you would have been nineteen I opened the book. You had been looking forward to that day but you weren't around to enjoy it. Or maybe you were. If there's a heaven, you went there.

Nothing happened when I read the first story. I heard your voice in every word, but not what I needed, your presence. It was a good story, told as only you could tell it, but it wasn't good enough. Not for your nineteenth birthday.

Then Knuckles came, and asked me for help.

That was when I knew what I had to do, how I would honour your birthday.

I wasn't able to help you up when you fell this time.

I would give the world to have you back. But I can't.

So I will be the one standing behind you, ready to finish what you started.

And that's pretty cool.

bTrust me and we will reach the highest of all the heavens/b 


	18. Chapter 18

Epilogue

I'm sorry I came here.

I'm sorry I need his help.

God Tails, please forgive me.

He looks so scared. And if Tails thinks Sonic should stay here, he probably should.

But I need his help.

I hope I'm not going to watch him die.

I try not to look at them as Sonic says goodbye. When I hear him telling Tails he loves him, I know that Sonic knows he might not come back. He tells Tails he'll be back soon, a lot sonner than possible, and we take off. I tell Sonic what's been going on, and I watch as he files it all away. He has a good memory, I'll give him that.

He looks okay. A little skinny, but okay.

He tells me about his sickness and his heart attacks, and I feel bad for dragging him out. He had done a number on himself. He wasn't 100%. He had been unable to get out of bed yesterday.

"Don't worry about me," says Sonic. "I'll be fine."

I remember the look on the little kitsune's face and I hope he will be.

We stop for the night in a cave halfway there and he tells me a ghost story that is actually really scary, but of course I can't tell him that. He goes to sleep but I can't relax. He sleeps like a rock the whole night and I only get a few fitful hours. I can't bury the feeling that I've done the wrong thing. I'm worrying now. About Sonic and Tails and if we can stop Eggman.

When the sun starts to come up Sonic looks around, then jumps to his feet. "Let's juice!" he says. We catch the doctor soon after, and we have to destroy a whole army of robots to get to him. I'm tired and don't feel like fighting, but Sonic's having the time of his life, jumping and smashing things and yelling like there's no tomorrow. He reaches Eggman first.

Do I leave him to it? I know he's angry for what Eggman did to him, but he's not ready to go swinging into action like that. He does it anyway, laughing and taunting Eggman, he's giving him the finger and running rings around him. He's so happy. I think it's the freedom. He's been gone so long. He's all hopped up on adrenaline and endorphins and the thrill of being the hero again.

Then he falls out of the sky and hits the ground, throwing up a dust cloud. Eggman senses he has a way out and takes off. I bend over Sonic.

He's shaking like a leaf and trying to get up, but then he gags and collapses. He starts to throw up and when he's done I move him over a little.

His eyes are rolled up in his head and he keeps saying, "Too much, too much" over and over, breathing too hard, and choking on his saliva. I lay him on his side and rub his back. I hope it helps but I don't know what I'm doing. Suddenly he's moaning and curling into a ball, and his arms are wrapped so tightly around his chest they're white. He starts screaming.

I'm useless.

Abruptly he stops screaming and gasps for breath, me still stupidly rubbing his back.

And then he breaks off without warning.

I turn him on his back. His eyes are closed and he's too limp. He's still shaking.

"Sonic?"

He doesn't wake up.

"Sonic, Tails is waiting for you!"

But he's dead and can't hear me.

"Shit," I say. "Shit."

I took Sonic from Tails so he could die out here in the middle of nowhere.

And we hadn't even won.

A rage comes up out of my gut, throwing my vision into a red haze. I get up and walk after Eggman. I don't stop moving until I reach him, and then I kill him.

When I return to Sonic I'm exhausted. But I can't stop.

I have to bring him home.

I pick him up and almost drop him.

He's alive.

Barely.

"Sonic?"

His eyelids flutter but nothing else.

I put him down and look him over. His breathing is loud and harsh, almost a tortured scream for air. He's very weak, but if I get him home maybe Tails can save him.

Sonic coughs and draws another desperate breath.

"Just hang on," I say.

He tries to talk but is paralyzed with coughing.

"Save it," I say. "I'm taking you home."

He moans a little and stops moving.

I'm running as fast as I can but I'm so tired. I have to stop. My legs are going numb.

I find myself at the same cave we were at before. I lay him down carefully. His breaths are too short and he's shaking. Remembering his story, I feel his arm, and his heart his beating frantically, erratically, much too fast and in no pattern. It's not beating. It's literally fighting. It's beating so hard it's screwing up his breathing. God he must be in pain right now.

He looks at me with tired green eyes. "You'll be okay," I say. "We're almost home."

He just looks at me, straining for breath.

Judging from what he had told me, I figured fighting Eggman had given him an adrenaline overload, which caused a heart attack. I had taken motionlessness for death. If his heart didn't slow down he wasn't going to make it.

I know I have to stay awake and watch him, so I sit and wish I could give some of my life to him. He stays unconscious but holds on to life stubbornly.

Then I hear him say something, I think he asks for Tails. I'm jolted awake.

Damn it! I fell asleep!

I rush over to him but it's too late. He vomits blood and moans, weakly clutching at his chest, and as I touch his arm I know his heart is beating too fast for it to take. If it was regular there might have been hope. But it refuses to settle and just stops.

I'm crushed with such guilt it hurts. I dragged him out here, got him hurt, then I didn't take him home and let him die alone while I slept, when he should have been with Tails. I had brought him out here and let him come with me even when I knew that he had been very sick so recently.

I was such a jerk.

And now I had to take him to his brother, when he had promised to come back.

I hope Tails will forgive me.

Goodbye, Sonic.

I'm sorry.


End file.
